He is extraordinarily handsome. Always a good way to start a sentence, especially when it describes someone who might be my next husband. He is twenty eight years old, a little under 6ft, and clearly enjoys a close working relationship with a gym. It just keeps getting better.

His clean shaven face, bronzed and glowing under the lights, is unblemished, with not a wrinkle to be seen. As he approaches he gives me an inviting smile showing off an endless row of gleaming white teeth. I suspect he must have had his black jacket altered to perfectly show off his broad shoulders and narrow waist, a huge expense for a waiter. Yes, he is a waiter. Not perfect husband material I admit, but I am prepared to overlook that fact. None of the other waiters in the ship’s dining room looks half as good.

His name is John Michael, he is from the Philippines and this is his first time working on the ship. He tells us all this rather hesitantly in a heavy accent and a soft voice. His English is not good, his only imperfection.

He interrupts my daydream by asking what I would like to order. The menu is mainly sea food this evening.

“To start, I would like your mussels” I say

John Michael flashes an enormous smile, looks rather pleased but a little embarrassed. He is at a loss for words.

It takes a moment for me to realize the source of his confusion. He thinks I am referring to HIS muscles.

I point to the menu and say “Actually, it is these mussels I would like, please”

John Michael’s face turns as red as a baby’s smacked bottom. He raises his hand to his mouth and giggles like a schoolgirl.

Mmmm! Adorable, but not marriage material after all.