Print

Email story

Comment

Email editor

A case of pirate envy from landlubbers' post

By ERNEST HOOPER
Published January 30, 2005

I stood on the Platt Street bridge eager to chronicle the exploits of the Tampa Police Department on Gasparilla Day.

I waited for Capt. John Bennett to return and tell me more about the difficulties of policing thousands of revelers in downtown Tampa for the annual parade. And then, I looked at some party people bouncing around on a string of recreational boats tied together underneath the bridge, and a bigger question popped into my mind.

Does she like the guy, or does she like the boat?

It's the kind of thought that seeps into your mind when you see a woman wearing nothing but a bikini bottom (hidden Sponge Bob reference) and a completely revealing feather boa.

Suddenly, getting distracted at work took on a whole new meaning.

Envy is seldom a part of my mental makeup, but as I watched the women on the boat, one thing was apparent: If you own a boat, you own attention. I hate to suggest all those guys were being showered with affection because a watercraft had drenched their dry personalities, but could it be anything else?

A couple walked across the bridge, and the man gawked. His wife looked over the railing and exclaimed, "All I see is a bunch of fat, pasty guys."

Right back at you, sister.

I can't really explain what was more annoying: the way the girls were fawning over these guys or the cute names of the boats. I wish I could name some. How about: Trust Fund, Never Done a Real Day's Work, Sea-Sickening.

I mean, there was at least one guy who was svelte. Of course, whenever he wanted some beads, he would just lift up his girlfriend's shirt. Brilliant. I wonder if he included that trait on his Match.com description.

Naturally, she just laughed, put another CD in the boom box and reveled over her beau's beautiful watercraft. I wanted to shout, "It's the boat, stupid."

Okay, it's official: I'm jealous.

In fairness, not every boat featured a breast-baring woman and an undeserving guy. There were groups that ranged in age, size and makeup. Most of the people conducted themselves in a family manner, which was especially important when the Bloomingdale High band marched across the bridge.

And there seemed to be a sense of community. Everyone worked hard to keep their boats from colliding with one another, and while they may have all been friends, the impression I got was that this was the nautical equivalent of a meet 'n' greet happy hour - networking at its best.

I tried to comfort myself with an adage: The two best days of a boat owner's life are the day he buys the boat and the day he sells the boat. They are time-intensive and financially draining. But on Saturday, they just looked like a lot of fun.

So I started calculating. If I got two other jobs while maintaining my columnist role, I would have enough to buy my own boat in 2039. Yes, it would be a perfect gift for my 75th birthday.

And then I realized I was being sexist. Perhaps the women were the boat owners and the guys were the boy toys. Maybe, if I lost 50 pounds - spent every morning at the gym and every evening at Subway - I too could . . . Oh, hi honey. No I wasn't dreaming.

You know, perhaps it would be best for this married man to sail the sea of gratitude instead of sailing into la-la land. As author Erica Jong once wrote: "Jealousy is all the fun you think they had."

That's all I'm saying.

- Ernest Hooper can be reached at 813 226-3406 or Hooper@sptimes.com

[Last modified January 30, 2005, 00:09:11]