On the first night of the Real-Bearded Santa pleasure cruise I went on early this year, sandwiched between a meet-and-greet buffet and a late-night ukulele jam session, all the Santas aboard — along with their attendant Mrs. Clauses and a smattering of elves — gathered in the Shangri La Lounge on the Promenade Deck to sing karaoke.
One by one, a procession of St. Nicks took the stage, belting out Elvis ballads, cheesy duets, and of course, “American Pie” — all the while being heckled by a gaggle of drunken millennial Carnival cruisers who wouldn’t stop shouting, “Do it Santa, do it!”
The stars of Christmas fearlessly pressed on. They are, after all, professionals.
It remains the only time in my life I’ve enjoyed watching karaoke.
C. Brian Smith
C. Brian Smith writes hard-hitting gonzo features for MEL, whether it be training with a masturbation coach, receiving psycho corporal treatment from a spank therapist, or embarking on a week-long pleasure cruise with 75 Santa Clauses following their busy season.
