While we were vacationing, Mr. Anderson and I got walked in on during a session of Afternoon Delight by our cabin steward. What happened next is still up for debate, as we have differing versions of a singular outcome, which was how exactly Mr. Anderson ended up flat on the floor wedged between the bed and the balcony doors. Perhaps I adopted Herculean Strength as Mr. A. contends, or he catapulted himself off of me and landed heads-up on the floor as I recall the goings-on, but one way or the other, there he lay (laid??) as our heavily-accented stateroom man backed quickly out of the door, never to enter again at 2 p.m.
He did, however, greet us with long and uncomfortable laughter each time we ran into him.
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