Shipwrecked Romance

**This story was inspired by Gina Brillon, a rather impressive young woman who is an actress, comedian, and writer. On top of those accomplishments, and having very fabulous hair, she also sings and does poetry and squeezes in a little time to interact with fans in spite of her social anxiety. Gina comes from the Bronx (pronounced BR-awhn-kzsu) which is in New York (or so her website states, but I'm geographically challenged so you could tell me she lived five houses away and I'd still get lost trying to find it). Her sense of humor is very realistic, down-to-earth humor with a grown-up feminine-styled twist. If you can't picture that, I highly recommend you head over to Amazon and pick up a copy of her one-hour show, "Pacifically Speaking". Check her out on her Facebook here.

I was inspired to write this little piece because she spent a few minutes chatting with me. Don't worry, I'm just as amazed as you. I got to talk to a celebrity, wooo! Do the famous person dance... So anyway... Awkwardness aside, I made a joke based on a joke of hers in the show, "Pacifically Speaking". One joke led to another, and I learned she met her current significantly different person of interest while she was working on a ship.

I geeked out at the romantic-ness of it (in spite of the fact that you'll never get me on a boat, stories of them are romantic... I mean, look at Titanic--erm..or...) and concocted a story in my head of how it obviously all went down.

So this is what Gina said, "I met him while we were both working on a ship."

And this is what 30-seconds of my brain looked like, "Once upon a time, Gina Brillon found herself shipwrecked and drifting off into the sea! And along came another ship, and she was pulled aboard and given a mop to earn her way back to shore. It sucked having to be a cleaning staff person, but..."

And she said, "Bravo!" and now I'm intent to prove that I can do better than that.

Considering I haven't actually started writing the story yet (that I was inspired to write), let me see if I can whip something up for you. In the meantime, kick back and pour yourself a drink. We might be here a while.

******NOTE: SWEAR WORDS IN STORY. This story should be considered age appropriate for people who lead moderately adult lives and pay their own internet and cellphone bills... All others should consider the ramifications of how clearly influential the media is (not) on their young lives before going forth with reading.... Um........

*****ALSO all similarities to real life are coincidental and the story is fictional?

SHIPWRECKED ROMANCE

You know the irony of life was not only making itself known to Gina, but it was practically driving a car straight into her metaphoric vehicle before getting out and smashing at any remaining decent portions with a damn tire-iron while laughing maniacally.

Could Gina identify why the hell she was on a giant bit of driftwood in the middle of a body of water large enough to have no idea which direction the shore was in? Not really... She gave up on the identification of reasoning hours prior. It probably had something to do with being character-jacked for a ridiculous short-story or something.

But on the positive side, Gina could work on getting a little in-story tanning time, so.. bonus!

Boring topics aside, there Gina was. Stranded. On driftwood. No sign of the shore in sight, and no crows-nest to climb up and call, "LAND HO!" when it did come into sight... Granted, this day and age, if a sailor called out "Land ho" of all things, they would probably be slapped upon arrival with a huffy personality in the most modern of fashions demanding, "Who you calling ho, asshole?"

Damn the politically correct.

Now, according to her website, Gina was a many-talented young woman. On top of her ability to not kill herself in stilettos (or, presumably lead a secret life identity as cat woman--I know who your secret identity is, no one is that talented in heels!) she could sing. So for the sake of the story Gina has found herself stranded on some moderately precarious driftwood wearing her favorite pair of stilettos and a white gown straight out of a Regency novel based in the 1800's. And she was singing to pass the time.

Sometimes it really sucked to be a damsel in distress. No one actually wanted to read a story from the damsel's perspective, because what would they read about?

And then the young girl paced back and forth in the high tower again, because, well, the damn dragon was guarding the tower's base door if she at least stayed in the high tower she could have someone to talk to--AKA the dragon--when said dragon wasn't dealing with severe indigestion. "I told you to remove the metal armor before you ate him," the princess yelled out the window finally after the dragon belched yet another stream of flames. At least the dragon had the decency to turn away from the tower before belching...

Actually, that wouldn't be too bad of a story to read either. Gina hummed to herself and kept imagining about the stories of a damsel in distress.

She was stuck on a piece of driftwood, mermaids circling around her. These weren't the pretty, Disney-style, sing a song for the King of Mermen every morning type of mermaids. No, these were hideous, vicious looking creatures. Each one had the obvious lower body of a sea creature, and where the torso of the merfolk of a more delightful fantasy would turn to the shape of a human with brilliant hair and fabulous shell covered boobs or washboard abs, these creatures were almost skeletal with long, spindly arms and webbed, clawed hands. Their faces were a grotesque combination of a hammer-head shark, an angler fish, and what she imagined Medusa must have looked like in Greek Mythology before Perseus beheaded her.

Well, that fantasy took a rather drastic turn. She went from imagining being a princess in a dragon-kept tower to a drifting survivor surrounded by insane death sea monkeys with a severe case of the munchies... Neither story really sounded like a good, happily ever after.

A sudden wave of water hit Gina squarely in the face.

Feeling disoriented, Gina sat up on her elbows, trying to keep her legs together in a form of modesty. Even in the middle of the ocean, she probably didn't need to be flailing her legs about and sitting like an overcompensating tomboy. Because, well, duh. Not every day could be "cute panties day". Today just so happened to be "Joe Boxer smilieface" day, because the only other pair not in the laundry had "Monday" on them and it was obviously not Monday...

Gina began to register the details of the world around her. Solid walls of a cruise ship's kitchen area, fast paced movements of kitchen staff, and oh look. A tray of water cups and a carafe were shattered on the floor. There were days when being a server were wonderful, but this was not it.

She was embarrassed and this moment felt like it would never pass. Her face was already feeling far too warm in spite of managing to splash water all over it. No need to worry about her mascara. She paid more on a bottle of mascara than on six pairs of stockings, because good mascara that was waterproof was worth the extra hour of hard, grueling labor. And to top off the whole cake of a freakish moment caught daydreaming (daydreaming horribly, but still daydreaming), it had to be an adorable guy who was attempting to speak to her and help her clean up the mess, and she was staring with a gaping jaw.

Oh no. No no no... "H-hi."

He stopped talking and looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face before grinning. "Hi. What's up?"

"Did you hear the one about the clumsy girl?" Horrible joke. Just awful. For a comedian, come on, Gina.

Still, who knew a guy could smile so brilliantly and look so cute? "No, what's up?"

"Not her!" Awful. Simply wretched.

He began laughing. "Well, let me get her up." Gina took his hand, feeling sheepish but unable to keep the smile from her face.

Take a chance, Gina, she told herself boldly. "Can I get you a drink later?"

"Do I have to drink it off the floor?" He teased but he was nodding. "I'd like one."

Across the room, the cruise ship chef yelled, "Oi, love birds! This isn't the Bachelorette. Get back to work!!"

Gina wanted to tell the guy her name and get his phone number, but when she turned back to look at him he was already disappearing out of the kitchen with fresh glasses and carafes of water. By the time she got to the hall, he was gone. Still... it wasn't like they were in the big city! They were on a ship. How big could it be? Surely they'd run into each other again.

the end

copyright 2016 jagross