Oh, my! I am truly impressed at how accommodating some of you are, even to choosing your head to make the occasional delicate guest happy. Seriously! You're mighty nice. I won't be holding myself to your high standards, I am afraid.
Maybe I just am overreacting to what seems a very high-handed entitlement mentality, but the contortions of courtesy people seem to expect are becoming wearing. My dinner guests can't eat gluten, eggs, meat, sugar, seafood, fish, dairy, artificial sweetener, carbs, fat, anything but organic, free-trade produce, alcohol, soda pop, and the list of mutually exclusive demands on my hospitality seems to be endless. Now I am supposed to tailor my plumbing to the occasional picky passenger?
No. Just no. This is my boat, not Burger King, and you'll be having it MY way. You are a guest, not the pampered princeling who owns this yacht, nor am I your loyal indentured servant. You, the guest, may decide whether you can eat this, drink that, or bear to use my toilet, but we have two choices here: Take it or Leave it. Staying ashore is, indeed, an option.
I can see I shall have to rework my welcome-aboard briefing to one more in line with my increasingly curmudgeonly personality. /rant. So there!