Weekenders

Let me start by saying that I know this whole post is going to make me sound like a pretentious donkey, but because it is part of the living aboard experience I would be remiss if I did not address it.

Weekenders!!!

Let’s establish something first: If you are stumbling around the main dock with a beer in your hand at 9:00am – you might have a problem. Further, if your buddies are in the same shape – they too, may have problems. If your other dock mates have to repeatedly ask you to tone it down – that might be a signal that you have issues. If your dock mates are secretly conspiring together on how to sink your boat in your slip – you might consider the possibility that you are causing a bit of a problem.

But, alas – you don’t clue in – because it’s 9:00am and you’ve already had 6 beers.

Why do you have to play your music so loud that it can be heard two marina’s over? Are you hard of hearing? And why, pray tell, do you have to sing along – off tune – at the top of your lungs? Do you fancy yourself to be a closet Sinatra that the world needs to discover? (P.S. – you’re not!)

And ….

Why do you have to urinate on the toilet seat and floor around the toilet all while smoking a cigarette and talking to your pal in the next stall? Why do you then walk away without flushing the toilet – much less cleaning up your mess? Is it because it is noon, and you’ve now had 15 beers?

What is so funny? That winch over there – look at that thing – man that is funny! And that cloud up there – it looks like your ex-wife – HAHAHA – ooooh, I’m so funny. Come to think of it – everything I say is funny. I’m a fun guy. I’m the life of this party. Lets all laugh together – 1-2-3 – from the belly, a good – raise the dead, laugh. (Hey, when I laugh – it can hear it echo. Man, that is funny too!)

It’s now 2:00am – well into the second case of beer. Hey, has anyone seen my pants? I don’t remember taking them off – I had them when I got up this morning. Oh well, I’ll figure it out in the morning. Lets just turn the music up and go to bed … after this one last beer.

I know, I know – not all weekenders are like this, but I’ll bet that every marina has a boat or two that the above describes to a ‘T’.