A sample “Confession” from The Insiders’ Guide to Becoming a Yacht Stewardess: Confessions from My Years Afloat with the Rich and Famous… Julie bites her tongue while dealing with the Playboy Bunny girlfriend of a charter guest’s centi-millionaire son.
I Must Confess…
I had to bite my sassy tongue at times.
Trophy wives and girlfriends are the WORST.
For someone who has never felt shy about voicing her opinions, and who has been referred to by her friends as a bit of a smart aleck (especially when it comes to altercations with people in unworthy positions of authority), I was surprisingly able to exercise a tremendous amount of self-restraint and made it through my time as a stewardess without incident. Ahhh, but that’s not to say there weren’t some close calls.
Take the Playboy Bunny girlfriend of a charter guest’s multi-millionaire son. (My example of “unworthy authority.”) This girl practiced yoga every day she was onboard, demanding that we first clear the entire sundeck for her to remain undisturbed while she got in touch with her “inner being” for hours on end. What a hassle for our deck crew to be banished from a primary workspace for most of an afternoon!
On one particular day, she approached me in the main foyer as I was pulling the dead blooms off a quickly fading floral display: “Judy” (Day 4, and she still couldn’t get my name right), “I am heading up to the sundeck for my daily meditation. Could you alert the boys that I mustn’t be disturbed?”
“Certainly,” I replied through my teeth.
“You know, Judy,” she continued (it’s Julie, you nitwit), “you really should try some relaxation techniques, yourself…you seem awfully uptight.” She went on to explain to me about how, through her daily routines, she was nurturing that part of her soul that is free of earthly possessions and physical reality.
Now, take note: These comments are coming from a girl who, at breakfast the previous morning, complained to the entire table about how disappointed she was with her recent breast implants and how downright distraught she was that she needed a second surgery to have them repositioned. Unlike two of our lingering deckhands, I managed to escape the scene before she reportedly removed her blouse to get everyone’s opinion on the matter, causing the 80-year-old main charter guest to nearly choke on his oatmeal.
And here she was, now standing before me, coaching me on ways to achieve a similar level of “spiritual enlightenment.” How I made it through that moment without a) laughing in her face or b) handing her one of those dead flower blooms as I pointed out that her negative aura was having a destructive effect on other life forms in the vicinity, I’ll never know.
Make no mistake about it, the intellectually ill-equipped, trophy girlfriends are the toughest guests to deal with when it comes to not telling them what you really think.
“I must confess…I had to bite my sassy tongue at times.”
Interested in more Yacht Stew Confessions? No need to wait until the 2nd edition of my book is available, download Chapter 1 here.
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