The Baron
Our first night at dinner on the second cruise leaving Venice, we were joined first by Ian and Betty from Florida, and then by a stunning platinum blonde woman from Atlanta travelling alone.
After our introductions, the maitre d' escorted an attractive gentleman to our table and seated him next to Natalie and I remember thinking how lovely, she'll have a charming dinner companion during the cruise.
That's the last time I found myself thinking "charming" and "Ronnie" in the same sentence.
Ronnie, not Ron, also prefers to be called The Baron. And he flashed his card to Natalie to prove his provenance. After that, almost every sentence he spoke was a conversation killer. He was in 2 words, a pretentious prick. In short order we discovered that he's 71 - but he does look good for his age - has 5 children, the youngest of whom is 9 (hip, hip hooray!) has 3 wives, had a wife of 12, yes TWELVE, given to him by the king of some obscure country in West Africa where he was very helpful due to his deep knowledge of monarchial law. Though he's not a lawyer. Wow. Then he became a judge where no doubt the humble local peasants hung on his pearls of wisdom which he undoubtedly magnanimously distributed. He was quick to tell us that he immediately divorced his child bride after gifting her with goats and cows and that on his next visit, she, now the wealthiest woman in the village, was happily married to someone else.
Oh yes. In Scotland, he has 2 castles, don't you know. And his crest, which isn't a crest and which he quickly corrected me and called his coat of arms, is of a winged unicorn which has a name, but I've forgotten it. He raises sheep and cattle and I bet they miss him.
Fortunately, even though we've seen him several times since, Hans and I have immediately found something of great interest on our lapels, or on the floor, or in fact in the opposite direction and hasten to remove ourselves before we're spotted.
I should say that Natalie, in the clever way for which Southern women are well known, neatly cut him down to size wearing a brilliant smile and doing it with such finesse that he actually didn't catch on. The rest of us did though. He didn't return to dinner the next day or any other day since, but he has pursued the pretty Natalie at lunch without success. In fact the next day, he smugly asked her "if she had gotten lucky the night before." "Baron, I'm a good looking woman. I get lucky every night."
After our introductions, the maitre d' escorted an attractive gentleman to our table and seated him next to Natalie and I remember thinking how lovely, she'll have a charming dinner companion during the cruise.
That's the last time I found myself thinking "charming" and "Ronnie" in the same sentence.
Ronnie, not Ron, also prefers to be called The Baron. And he flashed his card to Natalie to prove his provenance. After that, almost every sentence he spoke was a conversation killer. He was in 2 words, a pretentious prick. In short order we discovered that he's 71 - but he does look good for his age - has 5 children, the youngest of whom is 9 (hip, hip hooray!) has 3 wives, had a wife of 12, yes TWELVE, given to him by the king of some obscure country in West Africa where he was very helpful due to his deep knowledge of monarchial law. Though he's not a lawyer. Wow. Then he became a judge where no doubt the humble local peasants hung on his pearls of wisdom which he undoubtedly magnanimously distributed. He was quick to tell us that he immediately divorced his child bride after gifting her with goats and cows and that on his next visit, she, now the wealthiest woman in the village, was happily married to someone else.
Oh yes. In Scotland, he has 2 castles, don't you know. And his crest, which isn't a crest and which he quickly corrected me and called his coat of arms, is of a winged unicorn which has a name, but I've forgotten it. He raises sheep and cattle and I bet they miss him.
Fortunately, even though we've seen him several times since, Hans and I have immediately found something of great interest on our lapels, or on the floor, or in fact in the opposite direction and hasten to remove ourselves before we're spotted.
I should say that Natalie, in the clever way for which Southern women are well known, neatly cut him down to size wearing a brilliant smile and doing it with such finesse that he actually didn't catch on. The rest of us did though. He didn't return to dinner the next day or any other day since, but he has pursued the pretty Natalie at lunch without success. In fact the next day, he smugly asked her "if she had gotten lucky the night before." "Baron, I'm a good looking woman. I get lucky every night."
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