Think twice before telling people you’re a cruiser
Iwas hanging in a bar near the airport in Savannah, Georgia, one rainy evening, en route from somewhere to somewhere. A rather beefy gentleman was also in attendance, hanging out both literally and figuratively. He was clearly enjoying the beverages and was earnestly engaged in talking with every lady around, never mind that the conversations were one-sided and that the one side was usually the back side of the heads of said ladies.
I was wearing an old Cruising World shirt. (I used to be editorat-large for that magazine and wrote the “On Watch” column and other pieces for many years.) The gentleman who kept striking out with the ladies suddenly stared in my direction in the mirror behind the bar, his florid face indicating curiosity and interest. Then, slowly but deliberately, he swiveled his head toward me. “I’m a cruiser, too,” he announced.
The cockpit shower was an important feature in Tom’s earlier cruising days.