Murder on the SS Titania

We were recently invited (by a fellow teacher) to a murder mystery dinner with three other couples. A 1920's cruise on the SS Titania bound for America in which the captain has been.. murdered ... during an exclusive dinner in his cabin. Hair and make-up were at 5:30 and done by one of the hosts Tanya, a Russian women married to an American whose house we were at. It was a huge house decorated mainly by large plasma TVs and other expensive electronics. They were in every room including the kitchen and bar. The make-up came out stunning and the story is played out.


We were to dress and act the part from the moment dinner started. I played Bjorn Riche, a silver spoon youth with a chip on his shoulder and Carrie played a writer of sordid mysteries who was escaping her past. Play was a set of rounds with questions to ask and answers to give or to keep secret. Everyone played their parts well but the accents (a French couple, Russian women, and a Scotsman) were a bit to muddle through. Regardless of the accents the story itself became a twisted and convuluted mess of details so that no one really knew who the murder was. When the murdered was finally named the motive (and we all had motive) and evidence was thin. There really was no hard evidence or a trail of clues. In the end everyone basically guessed. I got lucky and guessed correctly and won absolutely nothing. Apparently, as murder dinners go, this one was lame. They are planning the next already.



After the dinner the crowd thinned and we got to know the real host (the American), who changed into a Harley Davison leather vest and shorts and proceeded to rock the house with Y&T at an insane volume that Carrie would have never agree to. I now understand the greatness that is Y&T, at least I did at the time. Then we discussed (over the increasing ear splitting volume) artists like Iron Maiden, RUSH, and . We watched a recent Rio concert on his obscenely large tv, played some mean air guitar, and discussed Y&T some more. Then out comes the Russian vodka chilled and poured not once, not twice, but four times in as many minutes.

HELP ME!!!!
At the fifth shot, Carrie rescued me and we left or home with almost 8 ounces of vodka, consumed within about 15 minutes, settling in my stomach.

1 comments:

mama mcewen said...

How surreal but what an interesting experience! Glad Carrie rescued you from death by Vodka...no matter how cold it was!