Story Time: The Night I Almost Died

I've had a hard time deciding whether I wanted to rat myself out first OR pick on somebody else.  So, naturally, I chose to pick on someone else :) 

This is the night I almost died in World War 3

 Don't be fooled, these a grown men!  They each bought their special Mexico items in Cozumel, then had the wonderful idea to wear them all evening around the ship (formal dining room included).  We took a cruise last February, 2010, and my sweet little Alan had his eye on a Rey Mysterio mask the entire time. It only took him a year (and another trip to Mexico) to make his purchase.  I learned early on in our relationship not to be embarrassed by Alan. The boy is the life of the party, the biggest ham, and has NO shame. With that being said....onto the story.......

Each night in the dining room the wait staff would participate in a song/dance combination to entertain the guests during dessert. Several of the nights the waiters in our area would grab the hand of a guest to get up off their rump and dance. On this particular evening they had been dancing to the tune of a little "Apple Bottom Jeans," when they talked Alan out of his seat. Being the incredibly HOT dancer that he is, he immediately got up and began to "drop it down low" for the guests at surrounding tables. Most tables in our area were dying laughing, snapping pictures, and gawking at his entertainment skills.  Being oblivious to the ethnicity of the surrounding guests, Alan took it upon himself to be the "main event" for our small area of tables. It was all fun and games until he shook his booty right on the lap of an older Middle Eastern woman in full Middle Eastern attire (see example below).

It took 0.000001 seconds to identify the look on the faces of the Middle Eastern men at the table.  In that millisecond, our entire group of nine was fairly certain that Alan had just started World War 3. Needless to say, we feared for our lives and were not able to finish our dessert that evening. In fact, we were scared to attend dinner the following evening. We put on our brave faces and did, though.  It was obvious to us that our Middle Eastern friends were in a war formation at their dinner table. They had strategically seated themselves so that ALL of their men were on one side of the table--the side closest to our group. We didn't know if they intended to strike during dinner or if they were just protecting their women from the white booty dropping American boy.

Since I'm writing this story to you, I'm obviously still alive no thanks to Alan's international human relation skills. I'm glad our lives were spared.