The night before the Carnival Imagination was to set sail on a four-day Labor Day cruise from Miami to Key West and Cozumel, Mexico, the 233 people who had signed up for the organized "singles cruise," part of the general 2,000-passenger cruise population, were invited to a pre-sail cocktail party at a lounge in the city.
I walked in alone feeling like a nervous freshman on the first day of school, except that the crowd ranged in age from the 20s to the 70s and was in full schmooze mode. A loud "whoo!" erupted as a group of fifty-somethings did shots at the bar.
"Where are your beads?" asked a gregarious woman with a mojito and a thick New Jersey accent. A beaded necklace that spelled "Angela" rested in her cleavage, where she also kept her money and phone.
The name beads, I soon discovered, are the singles cruiser's most important accessory. They are an automatic friend finder, a green light that it is safe to approach.
Angela, who that day was celebrating her 55th birthday, told me she was divorced and booked the singles cruise to be around "positive people."
"If you're not having fun, you haven't tried," she hollered over the thumping music.
We worked the room together, meeting the universally friendly folks with whom we would spend the next four days in an 855-foot-long party boat. One of them was a 68-year-old gentleman, twice my age.
"I'm here to have fun; if I get lucky, it's a bonus," he said with a wink, expressing a mantra I would hear pretty much everyone repeat.