🏳️‍🌈 How the Gays Seized the Hot Tub(On a Very Straight Cruise)

There was no pride flag. No coordinated plan. Just five of us—all gay—sliding into the hot tub on a Tuesday afternoon. Nothing suspicious, nothing dramatic. Just five dudes looking for bubbles and maybe a little eye contact.

Ten minutes later? The thing turned into a United Nations summit of queerness. Suddenly, we weren’t five—we were fifteen gay guys and four lesbians crammed shoulder-to-shoulder in a tub built for maybe eight people max. Elbows touching, knees overlapping, cocktails balancing on the ledge like a gay version of Survivor: Pool Deck Edition.

The straights? They saw the migration and abandoned ship—literally climbed out one by one, clutching their Bud Lights like emotional support items. Some hovered on the edge, trying to figure out how a simple soak had escalated into an aquatic gay takeover.

Inside the tub, though, it was magic. Laughter loud enough to drown out the poolside DJ. Someone telling a coming-out story like it was stand-up comedy. The lesbians calling dibs on the corner seats with military precision. Every so often, the jets would go off and the whole tub shook like we were about to lift off into queer orbit.

By the time the sun went down, the hot tub had a new identity. It wasn’t just warm water—it was the gay capital of the cruise ship. You wanted straight vibes? Go to karaoke night. You wanted queer energy? Find the bubbles.

Moral of the story: you don’t need a pride flag to mark queer territory. Sometimes all it takes is five gays, four lesbians, and one overcrowded hot tub. 🌈💦