William K. Wolfrum's picture

    Sexy Brazilian lets her hair down, cheats on a cruise ship

    [Author’s Note: This was originally posted on this site on Jan. 8, 2008. But with my wife, Emilia, out of town and me deep in the throes of missing her (Don’t let her know that, tho) I thought it would be a good time for a re-post]

    I try not to mention my wife, Emilia, in my work because, well, I don’t know why. She sure as hell talks about me at her work. She has several bits down pat about the adventures of the silly American in a strange land.

    Generally, however, I keep Emilia in the background. But I had mentioned a story in a blog post about her innocently (I’ll testify to that in court) about something we did on a cruise ship. I feel like this might be embarrassing for her, but I thought, “hey, If I just write a really sweet post about her first, I’d probably be ok on this one.” If there’s one thing they don’t teach you about marriage, it’s this - variables. Get to know them, and play them.

    So anyway, this one time, on a cruise ship …

    My parents, showcasing again why they are the greatest parents in the world and shining proof that conservatives are not all evil people, took myself, my two sisters and our spouses, as well as my sisters’ kids on a five-day cruise.

    First of all, let me just wrap this part up now: If you are thinking of taking a cruise, do it. It’s a fantastic, relaxing time where you can do whatever you like. It’ll run you when you’re on board especially, but they do treat you right (and I’m just speaking of the top-named ones because those are all I know).

    So the trip was a blast for all involved. But right in the middle, on the third night was a contest I’d convinced my wife to join with me. We had been married just over a year, and the ship was holding a bawdy “Newlywed Game” of sorts. So we went to the “audition” as it were, which was scheduled just 45 minutes before the show in one of their big fancy show rooms. Shockingly, a lot of couples wanted in on this. There were maybe 30 couples there, for only three spots. And then one of the spots went to a couple that had been married 700 years and were as sassy and funny an older couple you could find. They should have their own show.

    Then the next spot went to a younger couple, who were married the least amount of time. They had actually been married on the boat, a few hours earlier. So, there was just one spot remaining, and to make it onto the show, they lined us all up and gave us an “American Idol” audition of who could perform the best “Tarzan and Jane” impersonation. The odds were stacked against us. I told Emilia not to worry, I’d get us there.

    So as there were less than 10 couples left, doing their lame Tarzan and Jane imitations, I came up with the plan: A three-part plan, actually:

    1) Art: Emilia would perform “Tarzan and Jane” via interpretive dance.

    2) Stand up:
    I would tell a “Tarzan and Jane” joke acting live a Vegas comedian.

    3) Porn: Emilia would then fall on her back, I’d give a Tarzan yell, and pounce on her.

    Let me tell you, for having merely seconds to come up with this, it was pretty impressive plan. Emilia kept saying “I have to do what?” and “Don’t make me do that,” and “Oh please don’t make me do that,” and other things on the same variation. But aside from that, things were going smoothly. And then it was our turn. And we nervously stepped forward to the center of the room, the audience having already reached 500 or so. We lept into our roles …

    … and it worked. Brilliantly.

    The main reason it worked was the fact that once Emilia decided that she was going along with this plan, she was going to give it her all. She interpretive danced her ass off.

    She was behind me so I couldn’t see as I threw a lame joke at the audience like “What did Jane say to Tarzan when he came home? Hey Tarzan, you’re starting to smell like a cheata.” But the crowd was going nuts. Emilia was just back there working it for all she was worth. When I finally ran over to her for the finale porn scene, she was exhausted, but fell to her back and dutifully kicked her legs up comedically after I roared and pounced for the ultimate porn act.

    It was the scene, man. The crowd was going bonkers, we went back and stood in line and awaited the rest of the act. We were nervous and somewhat humiliated.

    Because here’s something I left out: My parents were there. As were my sisters, their husbands and combined six children. We could see them in the balcony. It was surreal.

    So the finale came down to the audience giving a “Clap-off” with another couple. That couple had made it to the finals because he had shouted “Me Tarzan, you Jane,” lifted up her top and rubbed his face all over her ample bosoms. The audience was in varying taste that day, as I’d swear the clap came back a virtual tie, but the host chose us, and Emilia and I, who had been front of the stage, ran around and got on stage, facing a thousand fellow travelers, ready to put on a show. Even with the darling newlyweds and the cute-as-a-pool-of-kittens older couple, we were the favorites. Because Emilia had won the crowd over with her interpretive dance.

    The Newlywed Game

    The show itself was taped (but sadly, not the audition, Emilia’s dance will only remain in the minds of those who watched, family included), so I’m not going to go into it too much. Go ahead and find a tape and post it on the Internet, I dare you. I own one and I know a few others exist.

    But one answer sticks out. You see, what they do is send all the guys back stage and ask the girls a question, then vice-versa. I had just come back from being backstage, and the question presented to me was “How do you know your wife is in the mood?” I answered - just as she had previously answered - “When she puts her hair up.”

    The crowd was already laughing.

    “Why does she put her hair up, Bill?”

    “Well, you know, so she can go, you know, down there. You know.”

    The crowd went nuts. The younger guy on stage with us - in an impressive bit of comedic timing - stands up to me and shakes my hand and gives a small hug. I turn around, the older man had gotten up to, and was shaking my hand vigorously. The crowd loved it.

    Oh yeah, my parents and family were there. Did I mention that? Thought I should remind you.

    Anyway, we somehow did whatever we had to do to win, got enough answers right and took home the prize. I said I’d come up with a way to get us there, but it was all Emilia after that. We were Newlywed Games Champions, and received a bunch of crap to prove it to the world. It was a memorable night.

    My parents just pretended it never happened.

    The Fall out

    After it was over, we were stars. Literally stars. A cruise ship, you see, is it’s own community. And we were the celebrities of that community. Everyone came up to talk to us, we could see people looking at us, a guy even took our picture. It was a nice little glimpse of what it’s like to have some fame. It added to the cruise’s enjoyment.

    The Truth Revealed

    Emilia cheated. Yes, my wife cheated to win at “The Newlywed Game” on a cruise ship. She cheated out a couple that were married during the Nero Administration.

    It’s not her fault really. When it comes to games, Brazilians are the cheatingest group of people on the planet. It’s a cultural thing. Cheating and gaining an advantage is how you play. Watch Brazilians play soccer some time, their flops can be more athletic than when they net the ball.

    So keep in mind, this is a culture issue. When it comes to games, it’s important to not get cheated on, and to find your own way to cheat. It’s part of any game. It’s frowned up in the U.S., but it’s a purely cultural. Brazilians like to win. And will do whatever is needed to get a win.

    So in the end, my wife wasn’t being dishonorable, she was being true to her culture.

    Basically, it happened as me and the guys returned from back stage. I got on stage and she gave me a quick hug and whispered “Sex motel” in my ear.

    In Brazil, a motel, is basically by definition, a place for sex and partying that you can rent by the hour. The better ones are really fancy, have jacuzzi, sauna, hot and cold running porn and the likes. They even deliver food to you that’s quite good, and it’s all done in an environment of complete secrecy. Even the poorer sections of town have the, even when all they have is garages that close.

    So when the Question was asked of me “Where did your wife say your strangest encounter was” I had my answer. I would have answered that anyway, because it was strange. Awesome, but strange. Place even had a waterfall. I told the crowd all about it - the crowd that included my parents.

    No one has ever known about this until now. My parents, family, all those who fawned over us afterward - they were cheated. We pulled one over on them. My wife cheated at “The Newlywed Game” on a cruise ship.

    And really, how can you not love that?



    That's a fabulous story. It took me back to the one cruise I've been on--spring break, senior year of college. There is something about those competitions that makes you do things you wouldn't normally do. One night, my three friends and I participated in a scavenger hunt, teaming up with a nice young couple who were our dinner companions (permanent dinner seating). One of the things on the scavenger hunt list was a pair of men's trousers. Since the rest of us were women, the husband of the couple was immediately told to drop his pants. He was mortified until he looked to his left and saw an elderly gentlemen sitting calmly in his underwear (having given up his shirt for a previous round and his pants for the current one). Good times. As for Brazilian culture, my friend from Manaus told me this joke once: Two men were standing by a lake. A little ways away, there are three other's. One is French, one is American, and one is Brazilian. The man says to his friend, I bet I can get all of those guys to jump in the lake with their clothes on. His friend takes the bet and the man walks over and says something to each of the three guys. One by one, they run off the pier, fully clothed, into the lake. "That's incredible," says the friend when the man returns. How'd you get them to do that? "Well, I told the Frenchman that it was fashionable, I told the American that it was required by law, and I told the Brazilian it was illegal."

    Thanks :)

    I was actually in Manaus last weekend for some eco-glamping. Should have something on it today.

    Ok. It's completely obvious what's right about your wife.

    There is, however, that one teensy-tiny bad decision that's forever gonna blot her reputation, leave question marks around her sanity, and you know... kinda haunt her.

    I think you feel me on this one, eh?

    I know where you're going with this one, but the sad thing is how well it generalizes. If women actually had the good taste we tend to attribute to them, wouldn't they all be lesbians?

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