Jessie's Journal (8/7/26) (Patreon)

Dear Journal:

More cruise news…

We were supposed to meet our parents for dinner at 5 PM, but I was still waiting on Michelle to get out of the bathroom at 5:15.  Shanna Stevens’ first show was at 7 PM, and I had no intention of missing it doting on my lush older sister.   

“I’m leaving,” I said through the door before joining mom and dad on the Promenade deck.  After making an excuse for sis (“she’s seasick”), we made our way to the Captain’s Dinner.  We were about to order without her when she showed up carrying a margarita the size of a fishbowl.

“Where’d you get that thing?” Dad marveled.  I’m not sure if he was more amazed by the cocktail’s size or the audacity of his teenage daughter. 

“It’s a virgin,” sissy said defensively.

Mom and Dad looked skeptical--about as skeptical as they would’ve been had she made the claim about her own virginity--but they said nothing more about it.

Dinner itself was a blur.  My steak was good, but I was too busy scarfing it down to really enjoy it.  The theater doors opened at 6:30, and I intended to be first in line.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to talk much as sissy was busy being the center of attention.  “Ginormous” was her word of the day.  The ship was ginormous.  The drinks were ginormous.  The portions were ginormous.  Sam the bartender’s biceps were, you guessed it, GINORMOUS. Although her enthusiasm was spirited (literally), she never once sloshed her margarita or slurred her words.  I was impressed.  If I’d had that much to drink, I would’ve still been passed out in the shower.  Too bad our yearbook didn’t have a “most likely to be a functional alcoholic” award, or sissy would’ve won it hands down.

Of course, she yammered so much she barely touched her meal.  Under normal circumstances, I would’ve waited patiently while she cleaned her plate, making sure every calorie was accounted for, but I didn’t want to be late for the show, so, after some begging, we skipped dessert and headed for the showroom.

By the time we arrived, the first two rows were already full.  I was pissed, but sissy was too busy droning on and on about how ginormous the theater was for anyone to notice.  I was about to tell her to shut up when the house lights dimmed, and an ethereal voice began to sing.

The voice was unmistakable, but I didn’t recognize the chubby silhouette revealed by the rising curtain.  I thought it might be a backup singer until the spotlight came on and the crowd erupted in startled applause.

Shanna Stevens stood alone onstage.  That was no surprise.  The surprise was she took up more of it than anyone expected.

I don’t remember the first few songs.  I was too focused on her meaty arms, wide hips, and the double chin that formed whenever she sang a low note.   It’s shallow, I know, especially for someone my size, but I felt disillusioned.  Betrayed.  She didn’t look like her album cover or the poster I had in my bedroom.  Had they been faked?  Dad was always railing against Photoshop and AI, saying “you can’t believe your lying eyes anymore.”  If her image was edited, then what about her voice?  Was that fake, too?

It didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t the case.  Her voice wasn’t as good as on her album, but it was still heavenly, and she was still very pretty.  She had just put on weight.  Maybe she was transitioning to opera, or something.

By the end of the show, I had accepted the new Shanna, but it was clear many people in the audience had not. 

"They must not have a gym on the boat," said one snarky woman in our row. 

"She should take it easy on the buffets," said another guy.

Even my sister, who knows a thing or two about weight gain, was unsympathetic.  "I can't believe how fat she's gotten," she said to Mom as we filed toward the exit. 

I’m surprised she didn’t say ginormous.

As we left, we passed Charles, the older bartender, heading toward the stage with a bouquet.  He never gave us a second glance.  His eyes were fixed on the backstage door.    

And I suddenly realized why she was putting on weight.

--Jessie