Spring break vacations are a funny thing.
They are not typical vacations, like those you have taken in the past, where you feel it is your duty to hit a museum or two. Nor do you feel a need to soak up the local culture 8212; you would rather rape and pillage the society and sun and contribute to their tourism industry.
By the end of the trip, you are convinced that not only is braiding your entire head a good idea, but that putting 151-proof rum in your coke is fantastic too, and you can&t live without getting a big ol& straw basket.
Yes, this would definitely describe my spring break vacation in the Bahamas. It all began with a flight to Fort Lauderdale, Fla. in order to leave on a cruise to the island that left the next morning around 6 a.m.
When the alarm went off at our extremely budget 8212; dare I go so far as to call it ghetto 8212; hotel around 4:30 a.m., the last thing I could think about was sipping Bahama Mamas around the pool.
My friend decided that she wanted to take the first shower and I happily obliged her.
I had just delved back into the land of slumber when I heard screaming like I have never heard before. Not only was I now awake, but I was extremely grumpy. I was more irritable when I realized that the reason she was wailing like a banshee was because of a lone cockroach.
Granted, they are not my favorite things to encounter first thing in the morning while brushing your teeth, but that early, few things get me too excited.
On the ride over to the dock to catch the cruise, our driver advised us to drink a lot and have as much sex as possible. Orgies were also seriously encouraged. Not necessarily bad advice, but still, a little strange at 5:30 in the morning.
We finally got on our ship and began drinking at 7:30 a.m.
Yes kids, it was like D-Day, but more drunken and with better looking people. Keep in mind, I said the people were, only better looking, not smarter.
Some girl even thought she was sober enough to do a tumbling routine. When she fell on her head and scraped open her nose she seemed to feel differently, but at least the host of the contest she was in bought her yet another drink.
The Bahamas have a friendly culture, and more men hit on you than you can shake a stick at. It doesn&t matter what you look like, or even if you speak English, all girls are fair game.
One guy, when we tried to turn him away, told us that he was married and just wanted to know if we were having a good time. When my friend asked why he wore no ring, he got offended and pointed wildly towards the corner explaining that his sister-in-law was watching us.
He was only one of many. I managed to get extremely sunburned on the cruise 8212; I looked like a Ronald McDonald reject. As a way to hit on me, one guy actually walked up to me, touched my skin, watched me turn hypercolor and informed me that I was burned. Nice try. Another popular way to try to get a piece of a drunken girl seemed to be the offer of water contact. Not only was I asked to skinny dip, but one guy even requested a shower.
The guys weren&t the only questionable ones. We were so stupid at times that when one of my friends fell over drunkenly, it actually took six individuals 8212; also drunk 8212; to circle around her and figure how to help her up. Not exactly brain surgery.
The strangest part of this spring break phenomenon, however, is that you don&t really understand what has happened until you get back to school. You know that you&ve had one hell of a vacation but you only remember about 80 percent of your trip. Even after viewing photos of your debacles you still only remember 85 percent.
Was it a fun trip? Hell yeah. Would I do it again? In a second.
