I remember the night clearly. Baby had come by to do our ritual pre-cruise planning (ideas for door decorating, them night outfits, etc). This year the boys switched it up and added 90's night. What was the first thing she and I thought of? Flannel shirts and Doc Martens. Um.... No. Not ever happening again. Did I own both? Sure. Have they been burned? Hell yeah. Then Baby looked at me and said, "Spice Girls." I was intrigued and scared all at the same time. Could we pull it off? Well, in the words of a dear friend when I asked if this was a good idea, he said, "All day AND tomorrow." Well, I guess that's that and suddenly, we emerged as Baby, Sporty and.... Posh.
Fast forward to 90's night on the boat. This was a HUGE night for me. In mere hours, I was about to be part of D-Dub's backrub. A show which was a first come, first serve event had now become part of the guys repertoire of evening entertainment. I was guaranteed a FRONT ROW seat. No anxiety for the first time in 3 years of cruising because I was in. Nothing could stop me. Prior to the show, I knew I had to make my costume work. Baby looked awesome in her pink baby doll dress, pigtails complete with hot pink boa feathers as bows and a squeaky, phallic, pacifier around her neck. Sporty worked it in her wrist bands and head band. And me, well I literally pulled a dress and platforms out of the closet that I currently own. Decked out in a slinky off the shoulder mini-mini-mini dress and gold platform Giuseppe Zanotti's, the final piece de resistance was my oversized black Dior sunglasses. It may have taken hours to straighten my rapunzel length hair but I worked it. I was Posh and I was ready to go.
As usual, no evening would be complete without these Italian bitches causing a ruckus. On the bitch scale, it goes Sporty, Me and Baby. Baby is just sweet natured in general and her smile warms the ice off our hearts but cross her and you're fucked. Don't let her exterior fool you. Sporty and I on the other hand? We don't hide it as well. As a matter of fact, Sporty brings out my Italian pride even more (here's a little secret, I know I can't fight so I only mouth off around her because due to her true Italian loyalty, she will fuck a bitch up for any of her friends). So, as we were standing in line for the back rub, we attempted to take a picture but, the line began to move. At that point, all hell broke loose. We were trying to take this picture, the lines starts to move and some fan begins to stroke out because we aren’t moving with the line. “UM, THE LINE IS MOVING.” The three of us turn to look at her with our bitch face as she cut us in line…. The line we were waiting in for the show where we have assigned seating. Yup. ….and that’s all I have to say about that.
Once inside, I see Timmy and cringe. Oh no—this guy is not going to fuck up this groove. I was able to snag the same seat that I had the previous nights (apparently this girl claimed to be a big Donnie fan but missed the back rub—I don’t get it). I ordered a cocktail…. A Miami Vice (tradition) in preparation of what was about to happen. The stage was set with white leather furniture and red lighting… yes, D-Dub’s own Red Room of Pain. I hungered with anticipation.
The lights dimmed…. Women started screaming….. Freak Me by Silk was playing….. Then, like a vision, Donnie appeared in the same purple satin smoking jacket from the other night. World of Useless, his sidekick, was throwing down rose petals at his feet as he walked toward the stage. I stopped breathing. Now, Sporty hates this shit and thought it was ridiculous. Baby gets it—she gets me. I was on the edge of my seat, as usual, while I listened to him whisper in these women’s ears, watched him feed them strawberries and lick, yes, LICK, champagne off of them. *SWOON* The next thing I know, his robe is off, his shirt is off, his pants are falling off his hips and all I can say (to myself, and now you), “Oh My God. I don’t think he’s wearing underwear.” That pretty much sealed it for me. Everything else is a blur.
We have called it Cinemax after Dark and showed up with our Shamwow! panties but this year, well, he took it to a whole new level (thank you Christian Grey). I don’t remember much because I am almost positive that I passed out from not being able to breathe, but I do recall him handcuffing some lucky woman on stage. Hmmm… Donnie… handcuffs…. Do I need to say anymore? This Spice girl was 50 shades of red hot after this back rub. I sat there numb. Unable to describe what I had seen and heard exactly. This was mind porn and Donnie was Deep Throat. Not sure what happened next…. I think Jordan performed or something.
Once I was able to walk and unglue myself from my seat, the other Spices and I went to freshen up for the deck party for 90’s night. We were about to enter hip hop heaven, or Calcutta in August (it was by far the HOTTEST night on the boat). The night was filled with songs from our high school years and college years. DJ Cheapshot kicked it off and we were all dancing away. Then, as Donnie said, it was time to Face the Music. Yes, they came out in their full on we-are-no-longer-New-Kids-on-the-Block-so-call-us-NKOTB-because-we-are-hardcore-now gear. In other words, they sang Dirty Dawg. Something I’d only seen them do once in a very very small club without Jon Knight. They busted out their old school gear and Donnie wore a “Hardware” hat bringing me right back to an age when I remember starting to love the bad boys. Next they sang, You Got the Flava. Another oldie that I’ve only seen live once. They were fierce: Joe was able to say fuck a lot and Donnie rapped. I was now, literally, in utopia. But the fun was only beginning….. Soon, Naughty By Nature took the stage and the music was truly hip hop history.
Vin Rok and Trigger Treach took over the boat and the DJ booth that night. I danced to Salt ‘n Pepa, Heavy D, C+C Music Factory, TLC, Snoop Dogg… the list just goes on. I was having the time of my life, even though my little dress was soaked from the sweat. I became brave suddenly and declared (again to myself), “I AM GOING INTO THE TRENCHES AND I WILL HAVE DONNIE SIGN MY FOAM FINGER.” Donnie was atop the back stage signing pictures, room keys, etc for a bunch of fans so in my platform stilettos, I decided I was going to go in…. Now, I’m a pretty small person. Without the heels, I’m fun-sized at 5’1” and a HALF. I could squeeze through no problem. Here’s where the plan goes REALLY BAD.
I’m able to get into the crowd but, once I’m in, I can’t move. It’s like a death grip. There was a mountain of women around me trying to get their shit signed and I couldn’t get my foam finger to him. No one would let me near Donnie. I was pushed, elbowed, hit- everything. Finally, I was all done (all done come way after all set). I couldn’t take it anymore but I faced a HUGE obstacle: the crowd. Getting out was nearly impossible. I used the only weapon I had available at the time… me. So I did what every other Donnie girl does, I threw my body into people to try and get out. Sadly, this plan failed as well. I was no Mighty Mouse. There was only one thing left to do and so, with as much class as I could, I dropped to the ground amid the sweat, spilled drinks and cigarette butts and attempted to crawl out. Some angel of mercy saw me and pulled me up out of the crowd. This girl obviously wasn’t a Donnie fan--- she was too nice. As I was being pulled to safety, some asshole tried to trip me down the stairs. Nice.
We called it a night at 5 am.
