Spring Break 2010, a week during which one of myself and Dan’s most epic tales to date transpired. Due to not remembering a vast majority of events that went on throughout the week, I feel it necessary to only recount our most prodigious day that I remember most of, which happened to be Tuesday.

The day begins:

I awaken on a couch at Fat James’ beach house and survey my surroundings, seeing as I have no recollection of arriving there the night before. I consult with Wender, wake up David James, and demand we go to find Dan. I then eat a corndog and chug two beers before heading out, at this point it is approximately 9:00 a.m.

We arrive at the Days Inn to find Dan napping in the corner of the room a few buddies of ours had rented. He apparently had pissed himself in one of the beds and been shunned to the corner at some point in the night. After Dan had collected himself we struck out on a mission to get breakfast. Today, our salubrious choice of food couldn’t have possibly been worse—Mexican. In addition to the food, Dan’s breakfast consisted of two margaritas; I knew where this day was heading already.

After ‘breakfast,’ our next stop was indubitable: the liquor store. Dan comes out of the liquor store with a pint of the cheapest vodka available, a 30-pack of Natural Light, and yet another margarita, this one being about twice the size of the previous two. We then return to the Days Inn to rejoin our other buddies, who will remain unnamed due to the fact that they are actually respectable members of society. As we wait on them to get back from eating, Dan decides I should chug the entire pint of vodka.

It is now 10:00 a.m.

I have absolutely no reluctance and immediately tip the bottle up. After about a shot, I realize this was not a good idea. I lower the bottle of vodka and say:

“Dude, I think that was a bad move.”
Dan “Pussy! Finish that shit!”
Kevin “No man, I think I’m about to lose it.”

I should note I have only thrown up a handful of times in all of my experiences with alcohol. I don’t know if it was the amount I had drank the night before, the Mexican food, the vodka before noon or a combination of all three that caused it, but I immediately started hurling over the railing of the second floor.

After about the third heave of the orange colored phenomenon that had previously been residing in my stomach, I noticed a girl on the first floor laughing at my misfortune.

Kevin “DON’T LOOK AT ME!”
Heave number 4.

The rude bitch goes to her room and gathers her other strumpet comrades.

Heave number 5.
Kevin “THIS NEVER HAPPENED!”
Heave number 6.

My stomach, now empty, decides to stop humiliating me and allows me to recompose myself. Fully disgraced that I have already had an audience of 5 women watching me vomit up something the likes of which I’ve never seen before noon on a Tuesday, I decide we should meet up with our friends and continue what we started. We arrive at their room and I demolish the remaining pint of vodka within the next 5 minutes while Dan annihilates the rest of his massive margarita.

Our next several hours consisted of screaming obscenities at people from the second floor balcony of the Days Inn while working on the 30-pack. I can’t really discern any specific conversations because I was nearly blacked out drunk, but we were screaming things along the lines of:

“GUIDOS! LOOK UP HERE YOU PUSSIES! GET BACK TO THE SHORE!”

“HEY! WHERE ARE YOU FROM? NO ONE CARES! SHOW YOUR BOOBS!”

“BLONDE HAIR! STOP HANGING OUT WITH FATTIES SO YOU GET ALL THE ATTENTION! YOU SELFISH BITCH! BIG GIRLS NEED LOVE TOO!”

To a guy dragging a cross down the beach telling people they were condemned to hell:

“JESUS DIDN’T HAVE WHEELS YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE! HOW DARE YOU DENIGRATE THE GOOD LORD LIKE THIS!”

We then decide to strike out for the beach after meeting back up with Fat James and KO at Hooter’s. As we are walking toward the beach access, Dan starts projectile vomiting half-way through his beer. This is basically how it went down:

Heave number 1.

Dan “WHORES!” To all the people on the outside deck of Hooter’s.

Heave number 2. Resumes chugging his beer.

Heave number 3.

Dan “FUCK EVERYONE! AAHHHH!” Resumes chugging beer.

Heave number 4.

Dan “WHEN WILL IT END! FUUUUCK!” Finishes beer.

While this was happening I was practically awestruck and could do nothing but laugh and try to finish my beer, as I felt it was only just if Dan was finishing his beer as he was throwing up. Rather than continuing onto the beach with Fat James and KO, Dan and I strike off across the street to the Chevron to buy cigarettes. While Dan is in the store, I accost a homeless man.

Kevin “Homeless man! Do you have some DRUGS!”
HomelessMan “Man, I got these dime sacks, man.
Kevin “Let me see that shit NOW!” I then look at what this homeless man is trying to sell me.
Kevin “Homeless man, do NOT insult my motherfucking intelligence because I am drunk. These are obviously only worth $5.”
HomelessMan “It ain’t like that man, not at all. I could do $8.
Kevin “Drugs aren’t my thing, I was just curious if you were holding. Let me hit that fucking beer bro.”

I then proceeded, after thoroughly wiping the mouth of the bottle and trying not to touch it to my lips for fear of AIDS, Herpes, etc; to down this homeless man’s entire 32 oz King Cobra Malt Liquor despite his protests. Dan approaches me and my homeless compatriot with three 32oz Natural Lights, giving us each one. I let the homeless man know the respect he has gained by doing nothing as I chugged his beer:

Kevin “Homeless man, you are essentially now my best fucking friend. You are our BOY! You’re partying with us tonight.”
HomelessMan “Hell yeah man, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Times are tough.”

I hand Dan my 32 oz Natty and we set off across the road to get back to the beach. Before we even make it half-way across the street, we are stopped by two policemen who had been hanging out in the parking lot next to the store.

Cop1 “What the hell do you guys think you’re doing? You can’t have those beers open out here, at least put them in a bag.”

HomelessMan makes a mad dash for the beach. The cops just blow it off.

Dan “Sorry man, I didn’t know.” Dumps out both beers and throws them in the trashcan next to the port-a-potties.

The cops decide that is sufficient enough punishment and let us carry on our way. We finally get to the beach and see HomelessMan lurking at the bottom of the dune-walkover, conversing with one of his equally home-lacking affiliates. I immediately decide he has royally fucked up.

Kevin “HOMELESS MAN! WHAT THE FUCK BRO? We take you under our wing and you desert us like this? Nah, fuck that, give me that fucking beer.”
HomelessMan “Man don’t do me like that, it’s all I got.”
Dan “FUCK YOU! I bought you that beer you fucking bum, and then you just leave us like that.
Kevin “You could have had a great night, but you ruined it. I thought you were our fucking boy.”

I take his beer and chug the entire thing except for about a mouthful.

Kevin “Have fun with that, asshole!”

This entry was posted on Saturday, March 27th, 2010 at 5:19 pm and is filed under Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.