I’m choosing to focus on the wonderful wines of Medoc and the nice meal at Chateau Kirwan, and not the previous night’s unpleasantness with that waiter and his crude, enabling boss. Suffice it to say, he’s an unpleasant little fellow and I’m sure would have made a fabulous Nazi in his era. Looking into his eyes, it’s not hard to imagine him grinning sadistically over the torture of his fellow citizens, or the extermination of an entire race.

But that’s probably overstating the case; it was just the feeling I got looking at him – like a serial killer waiting to happen. That his boss tried to play it off like his waiter’s repeated and intentional neglect of us was no big deal, while simultaneously making very aggressive and unfunny jokes at our expense, and getting the only waiter who actually did want to help us in trouble for doing exactly that, only made it worse. Not the experience we were hoping for with that, but it’s been the only truly unpleasant portion of the journey aboard the ship thusfar.

Medoc was beautiful and its wines delicious. Dinner was quite nice, and my waistline is starting to rebel; assuming this continues for another few days, I may have to buy an extra seat on the plane.

Target: 1300 words
Written: 2956 words, novel: Father Lightning