Decked Out

A lone, mysterious towel has been sitting on a deck chair by the pool of a Norwegian cruise ship since the day the ship departed. But what is it doing there and when will the one who placed it return? Only time will tell. Just not that much time because the cruise ship is literally docking back in Tampa today.

Gene Parkman is an avid cruiser and no stranger to the rules of deck life. For instance, the pineapple thing (DuckDuckGo it). But he also knows that as soon as you put a towel on any seat on the ship it’s yours for the duration, whether you use it or not. For Parkman, he has definitely not.

Five days ago Parkman embarked on his journey when he boarded the Norwegian cruise ship Whalesmasher. The first thing he did, even before dropping his bag off or making himself a force for the buffet staff to reckon with, was make a beeline for the pool deck, grab a towel, and drape it over a deckchair right in front of the ship's main pool.

“This is primo real estate,” Parkman could be heard commenting to his buddies, a group of vacationers known as the Cruise Missiles. “You gotta lock down a good spot early or risk never having a spot by the pool for the duration!”

While locked down the deckchair metaphorically was, return to the pool deck Parkman did not. As for the duration, Parkman could be seen throughout the trip gorging himself on the unseasoned food at the buffet, watching TV at the ship’s sports bar while getting absolutely hammered on domestic American beer, being a total dick to the staff who honestly already have it bad enough, harassing any young woman unfortunate enough to walk into his field of vision, and having violent diarrhea in his state room and using the shower instead of wiping (which Parkman claims is a perk of being on vacation). There are also the ship’s port days where Parkman could be found eschewing local customs and demanding special treatment from local service workers and being generally xenophobic (even though he was the outsider in these places), thus confirming every negative stereotype about Americans you can imagine. Also the fact that he almost exclusively wore t-shirts espousing how the government could never take his guns away didn’t help.

That’s all to reiterate just how much Parkman did not, in fact, utilize his reserved deckchair by the pool. That is until today, the day guests would be disembarking the ship.

“I figured what the hell,” says Parkman who is now all packed and ready to return to his shitty, unpampered life, “might as well take advantage of that spot while I still can!”

So now Parkman heads up to the pool deck, against the flow of foot traffic with his roller suitcase at his side, secure in the knowledge that of course his spot is still saved in accordance to the unwritten rules of cruising.

“Can’t wait to enjoy that chair,” says Parkman. “Gonna lay out, get a little bronzing for the ladies back home, maybe go for a dip, and check out all the little lovelies trolling around!”

He said all this despite the fact that he had barely any time left to lay out, the deckchair is not currently in the sun, the ladies “back home” (which is where the ship is currently docked) could care less if the creep hitting on them is sunburnt, the pool is closed for cleaning, and all the “little lovelies” are already dressed and ready to snake their way through Customs. But Parkman is undeterred to finally get a little use out of the deckchair that’s gone completely unused for several days despite the hundreds of other passengers who’d have loved to use it.

“That’s a pretty good spot,” says Whalesmasher passenger Jeff Engles. “Too bad there’s been a towel on it all week!”

“Yeah, would’ve loved to sit there!” agrees Tony French, “but that would be disrespectful of the cruising code which is a totally real thing!”

“It’s a shame such a lovely pool spot went completely unused,” says cruising enthusiast Danielle Jenkins. “I’m just glad I got to hold a seat in the main hot tub all week by leaving my flipflops in front of my spot. The burns on the bottom of my feet are temporary, but these hot tub memories are forever!”

Sources say Jenkins used the hot tub for an approximate total of 24 minutes for the entirety of the trip but tells us it would’ve been longer if some kid hadn’t spilled his nachos in it that one time she was totally about to use it.

As for Parkman, he was about to give the ultimate flex to his fellow cruisers and enjoy his deckchair while there was still barely any time to do so.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna friggin’ rule,” says Parkman approaching the chair. “I can’t wait to– WHAT THE CRAP IS THIS!?”

As he walks up, Parkman finds a young child lying in the deckchair playing video games on a Steam Deck while his family waits to disembark, Parkman’s towel discarded on the ground.

“Oh, this is BULLSHIT!” shouts Parkman the second he sees how his personal pool spot has been violated just before storming over to the bar.

“Hey!” he barks at the bartender, “get the manager out here right now!”

Sadly, Parkman will disembark the ship never having gotten to enjoy his deckchair despite his threats to trash the cruise line on social media or move the Cruise Missiles over to Carnival. Even his insistence that the boy’s family and ship’s staff don’t understand or respect the rules of cruising aren’t enough to put his butt in that deckchair.

Before too long, it’ll be time to return to dry land, and the idea of missing out on such a primo spot by the pool may haunt Parkman for the rest of his life. But at least he’ll find comfort in the knowledge that for most of the trip that seat was his and nobody else's, despite the myriad of people who would’ve enjoyed that spot even for a few brief minutes, and that’s not nothing.