After the show, we walked around some more, had a few drinks in one of the lounges, and waited until midnight to see the midnight buffet. You will never go hungry on one of these boats. You have breakfast, brunch, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, midnight buffet, and any number of other things to snack on in between. They also had about a dozen bars and lounges on board, and while that wasn't covered under the all-in-one price, there were some guys who bellied up to the bar on Sunday and never left until we docked on Saturday!
Tonight was what they considered informal. Monday night, we were out to sea, and was formal, very formal, bring your tuxedo formal. Tuesday we would dock in Bermuda and until we left Thursday, everything was informal. Friday we were out to sea again, and we were formal (although not quite as formal as Monday) that last night. Saturday we would dock back in New York and go home.
No, I didn't molest Marilyn on the deck that night, since we were both tired from a long day. I did let her try to keep me in bed the next morning, and boy, did she try hard! Afterwards, though, I got up and ran around the boat for a few miles, and then went back to the cabin and jumped back in bed with her. That seemed like a reasonable compromise. Afterwards, we cleaned up and went down to breakfast.
We were seated at a table with several other people. Breakfast and lunch seating they tried to minimize the number of tables used, to lighten the load on the staff. There is only a single seating, and you can come in whenever you like, and you don't sit at your assigned table. Marilyn had picked up a copy of the daily schedule for the ship, along with the ship's newspaper, printed somewhere down below. We were greeted by the people sitting next to us, a retired couple from Boca Raton. Marilyn loves this sort of thing, since she's one of the world's biggest gossips. She can sit and talk to anybody, for hours.
We decided on table service, rather than the breakfast buffet. The house specialty was suggested, Eggs Benedict, which Marilyn asked for, but I declined. I ordered two eggs over easy. "What are Eggs Benedict anyway?", she asked after the waiter left.
"You don't know?! You ordered them!", I replied, incredulous.
"Well, I've heard of them."
I just stared for a second. "Unbelievable. I've heard of the North Pole, too, but I don't think I want to visit there."
"Behave!"
"Eggs Benedict is a poached egg on an English muffin, with Hollandaise sauce on it, or something like that.", I explained.
"That sounds like something you'd enjoy.", she argued.
"Yeah, except for the fact that I can't stand poached eggs!"
The waiter brought our juice, orange for Marilyn and tomato for me, and then I sent him back for some Tabasco sauce. When he returned I sprinkled some in my tomato juice, along with some salt and pepper. "You and your Tabasco sauce!", remarked my wife.
I sipped it and it was pleasantly spicy. "That'll get your heart started in the morning. Put some hair on your chest." Tabasco is probably the most popular condiment for soldiers; somebody always has a bottle, even out in the field on exercises.
"You need some more, then.", she commented, causing our tablemates to laugh.
"That is cold, lady! That is cold!", I said. "You weren't complaining about my chest this morning.", I replied, winking at the others.
Marilyn squealed with indignation and swatted me, and then went back to gossiping with the neighbors. She's world class. All of our children over the years would tell me something, like they were getting married or being deployed overseas, and would always warn me not to tell their mother, since it was a secret. (Well, don't tell me then, either, but I can keep my mouth shut!) The typical phrasing used was, "Mom can keep a secret just as long as it takes her to find a telephone!" Eventually that was modified to " ... as long as it takes her to log on to her email!" Invariably, after the kids would tell her, weeks or months later, she would squawk about being kept in the dark, especially after they would laugh and tell her I had been told weeks or months before!
Monday was a total goof-off day, just sailing around the middle of the Atlantic, with no land in sight and nothing to be seen but the occasional ship in the distance. It was clear and sunny and cloudless. I gave Marilyn a wedding present of sorts, a new string bikini, which she protested about when she saw how small it was, but then she put it on, along with a cover-up. I changed into my swim trunks (basic Army issue green) and a tee shirt, and we headed up to the pool deck. The Sun Viking had two pools on the same deck, as opposed to some of the later ships which had more than one pool deck. We found a spot, set out our stuff, and hopped in the pool briefly, then slathered on some lotion to get a tan. Thankfully, Marilyn had been to the tanning booth before the wedding, so she didn't look white as a ghost. I also had some color, but it was mostly the redneck tan of a guy who's out in the sun working. Chest and legs pale, face and neck and arms dark. Well, we don't play with those howitzers indoors!
We spent pretty much the entire day swimming and sunning. At lunch we ate at the poolside café, and we sucked down some beers all day long. By mid-afternoon we had enough, so we headed back inside, to take a nap (eventually) and get ready for the evening. I must admit, I definitely enjoyed taking that swimsuit off her - it was so easy!
We dozed until about five or so, and then we had to clean up and get ready for the evening. Not only was it Formal Night in the HMS Pinafore Dining Room (everything on the ship was named after Broadway musicals - the theater/showroom was called the Annie Get Your Gun Show Lounge!), but before that, at 6:00, we and all the other newlyweds were cordially invited to the Captain's Reception. We would have a formal receiving line and then champagne and caviar.
Marilyn isn't big on dressing up fancy, but she can and will on occasion. I remember when we did this the first time, she had bought a powder blue evening gown with spaghetti straps at the shoulders that could be untied and a tube top so it could be worn strapless. It looked awfully nice and matched my blue tuxedo, which looked awful (not awfully nice) on me. I remember when Maggie commented, "Wow, Mom, you used to be hot!", that what I thought was how young she looked in the picture. Well, I guess we both looked young.
This time, no idea why, Marilyn had bought a black evening gown, sleeveless and mostly backless, with a criss-crossing of tiny straps over the shoulders and across the back, and a pair of long slits, one up each thigh, to mid-thigh. When she came out of the bathroom wearing that dress, my eyes popped out and my mouth got dry, and I asked, "Want to blow off this dinner? I have much different plans now!"
She smiled at this, broadly, and said, "Not on your life!" Then she giggled at me. "Besides, by the time you get out of your getup, I'll be old and gray!"
That much was probably true. My uniform had come back from the shipboard cleaner, and was in our cabin by the time we got back from the pool. An Army mess dress uniform, like all tuxedos, is ridiculously complicated. You have these special high rise pants, with suspenders. Cummerbund (whatever that is for!) A short tuxedo like jacket. More braid than a Park Avenue doorman. You have to wear real medals, not just the little ribbons. Even your officer's cap is different! Just to confuse everybody, the cuff bands and lapels on your jacket had to be in your combat arms colors - red, in my case, for the artillery (infantry is blue, armor is yellow, etc.) Finally, if you were feeling really rich and stupid, and wanted to look like the ultimate pansy, it came with an optional cape, also lined with your combat arms color, so that you could dress like a cavalryman from the Napoleonic Wars! On the plus side, I looked good in it, but that was only because I was in decent shape, and not reed thin like before.