The closest I ever came to a cruise was on the Spirit of Norfolk, which headed up the river to the Naval Base, and then came back. Which would have been fine, except as soon as we left the dock, they trotted out a bunch of high school kids to sing and dance for us. And the first song was "New York, New York"! WTF! We were too far out to jump and swim back, although a few people tried. We were trapped like rats. "New York, New York" is excruciating to sit through when performed by professionals; these high school students relied on shouting at the tops of their lungs, because that's how you sing in musical revues, they were obviously told. I wanted to kill someone. But it's hard to plan a perfect murder on a three-hour cruise. Unless you had some kind of superpower, like invisibility. But I'm starting to doubt that such things exist. When I was little and said bedtime prayers, I would pray that I would wake up as Superman. Failing that, my backup wish was for a room full of Snickers. How hard would that have been for God to grant? No luck on either count. Every morning I knew without getting out of bed that I was going to be disappointed. Because I was still wearing pajamas, and not a Superman suit. And no one was shouting that one of the rooms of our house was full of Snickers. But I haven't totally given up hope. But I'm a little bit worried that if I became invisible, someone would say "Where's that smell coming from?"