Dressed in our casual formal finest, my wife and I approached the host station of the ship’s main dining room hoping to get a table for dinner. In line ahead of us, however, was an older man on a Rascal Scooter, was clad in what appeared to be loose, baggy, white pajama shorts, from which were sticking his pale bird legs, and a dinner jacket.
MAN: You mean I have to go all the way back upstairs just to put on pants?! Aw, come on!!!
The maître d tried gamely to inform the man and his wife that he could indeed find a table for them if they insisted, but he suggested it would really be for the best if the man simply went and put on pants. Meanwhile the man on the scooter was attempting a three point turn on the Rascal, in an effort to beat a snail-crawl retreat, while his wife loudly defended her husband’s attire and good name.
WIFE: What’s the matter with what he’s wearing?! I’ve seen people in there wearing rags! Rags!!
We saw the man return later wearing pants, sans scooter.