Our trip is off to a rough start. The drive to Galveston was very slow due to extremely heavy rain. Every time I said that it looked like the rain was easing off, another torrent came.
It was sprinkling when I dropped Becky off at the terminal with our bags. As I pulled away from the curb another avalanche of rain began.
I finally get to my pre-paid parking spot and an attendant in a golf cart drives me close to the terminal. As I’m getting out of the cart the driver says that it looks like I’m going to get a break in the rain.
10 seconds later another deluge begins. I look up through the blinding rain and the great Carnival Breeze has morphed into a massive acacia wood vessel. I can just make out a long-bearded man on the deck directing giraffes and zebras onboard.
By the time I get to the covered terminal my shirt feels as if I were wearing it during a wash cycle.
I get inside and spot a restroom where I hope to dry off a bit. Once through the door, I discover that the towel dispenser is broken. I go into a stall, take off my shirt and wring it out. I twist and twist the shirt and it’s still very wet. The miles of toilet tissue I pull from the dispenser soak up very little water.
I came upstairs to the check-in counter and begged the clerk not to take a photo of me for my room card.
She said she could use my passport picture which looks like something taken of a hardened felon entering San Quentin. For once I was happy to have that awful photo.
Oh well, I’m slowly drying off, I’ve got my girl with me and we should be on the ship soon.
Go ahead Carnival, spoil me!
