Two Hours Before the Mast

Two Hours Before the Mast

by Andrea Lena DiMaggio

The Lady and the Pirate Queen
Were walking hand-in-hand;
They wept like anything to see
if there was a cover band:
"If they play Aerosmith or Boston,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"The time has come," the women said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and slips--and depilatory-wax--
Of camisoles--and queens--
And why corsets are so damned hot--
And do Victoria Secret girls really have wings?"

Pirate Invasion, Beaufort, North Carolina….

The two women held hands as they walked up to the bar. The brunette was dressed smartly in pirate garb; albeit as a Pirate Queen with her outfit tailored to display her ample breasts. The blonde was dressed as a lady in waiting; her outfit belying her extra assets. She lowered her face as would be expected of any attendant to royalty; pirate or otherwise.

“What’ll ya have?” The barkeep asked. The Lady looked away; deferring of course to her ‘mistress.'

“Grenadine; Cranberry Juice, and Captain Morgan’s…..arghhh,” the Pirate Queen said; punctuating her order by pounding her fist on the bar.

“That’d be a Jamaican Zombie… sorry, but we’re fresh out of Grenadine.”

“Mayhaps some Malibu Rum n’ Melon Liqueur n’ pineapple juice?”

“Oops… A Blue Ninja? We normally don’t carry Melon Liqueur?” The barkeep smirked. The Lady winced as her mistress squeezed her hand in frustration.

“Surely you have some Blue Curacao n’ Tarantula Tequila?” By now the Queen had abandoned Pirate-speak and was just one more majorly pissed, disappointed attendee at the Con.

“Ah…. A Barking Spider.... Well, we did have the Tequila, but we’re fresh out.” He laughed; his rude smirk leaving the‘pirate more than a little irate.

“Mistress? May I?” The Lady asked softly. The Pirate Queen nodded; authoritatively of course. The Lady stepped close; beckoning the barkeep to draw near with a wave of her hand. The man leaned in.

“Pray thee, oh gentle man to heed my words?” She smiled demurely and he smiled back until a look of frightened recognition overshadowed his face.


“Listen, you little prick. If you want to keep your job, quit fucking around and make her whatever she asks.”

“Yehhhh yes, Mr. Caputo.”

She shot him a very mean glare, bringing new meaning to the term ‘crossplayer.’

“Yeh…yes, Your ....Ladyship.”

"Something befitting my mistress, my good fellow?" The Lady reverted to character although the fellow was hardly good. The now- docile barkeep reached under the bar and pulled out a bottle of Lemon Heart 151 and poured it into a glass; adding some Corona Extra.

The Lady turned to her mistress, resuming her role, which gained a wry smile from the Pirate Queen, who stepped close to her charge. A quick whisper followed by a wry grin left the Lady with every assurance that the close of the evening might very well include a shake-down cruise.

"By the way, Mistress Pirate, where are your Buccaneers?"

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This story is 497 words long.