My husband and I went on a Caribbean cruise a few years ago on a Holland America ship out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  Bill likes to collect watches and is always on the lookout at each port for something unusual. Of course, he was going to check out the watch sale!  And I usually tag along to make sure we don’t have to remortgage our house upon our return home!

After lunch we headed down to the boutiques.  It didn’t take long for him to find a watch with nautical flags circling the face.  Designed by Nautica, it was unique and didn’t cost an arm or a leg - so he purchased it.  As for the free drink, he turned it down because it seemed like such a “girlie” drink.  However, he would not have refused a whiskey sour!  I, myself, am not much of a drinker that early in the day.  I will have an after dinner aperitif now and then.  So, we thanked the man and exited the store.

Suddenly, I felt someone gently whisking me into the jewelry emporium next to the watch shop.  It was the manager, who had apparently been watching us.  He commented on how fortunate Bill was in finding a trinket for himself. And now it was my turn to be treated like a “queen”.  First of all, I am no queen - not even a princess.  More like the hired help downstairs.  He waltzed me over to a seat in front of a glass display case filled with glittering pieces.  

I looked over to see my husband standing nearby with a smirk on his face. He was thoroughly enjoying my discomfort!  Later, he said he felt good that we looked like a couple with disposable income! As it turned out, what we really needed was a whole lot of disposable paper towels!  

After I was seated, the manager signaled his assistant, who had selected - not from the display case, but from the vault - a chocolate diamond necklace.  It was fastened around my  neck faster than you can blink.  By now we had an audience. Bill then nonchalantly asked how much the necklace cost.  A mere $10,000! I started to sweat, while glaring at my husband to get me out of there!  

Then came a tray of chocolatinis.  As the assistant tried to place one in front of me,  I raised my hand to refuse it - and hit the glass!  I watched in horror as the glass tipped over and the chocolate liquid rippled across the counter in slow motion.  The manager dashed out back and returned quickly with a roll of paper towels.  He mopped up the liquid before it could dribble onto the Oriental rug beneath his feet.

At that point the necklace was rescued from my neck post haste!  Red-faced, I apologized profusely and slinked out of the store as the crowd parted.  After that fiasco, I skirted around  the jewelry shop for the rest of the trip. To be honest, I don’t even  like chocolate diamonds.  This princess prefers Tahitian black pearls…a girl can dream.