A superyacht education

 Before I began working on luxury motor yachts in the summer of 2001, I could scarcely imagine that I would soon look after English lords and Mafia, be subservient to a prostitute, nor call a 30 million dollar boat my home.  Evian baths were as yet unheard of, as were death-hits, physical abuse and bullet-proof cars.  I was unaware, then, that pirates still existed, and the concept of my death was a distant, distant thing.  I understood neither that the rich could behave so badly, nor that their privileged lives could be so damned sad. I was blissfully ignorant that my principles could be bought so cheaply, and hypocrisy was still something that only other people practiced.  Being a yacht stewardess changed all that.