Tuesday, March 22, 2005
 the discovery sun has a total of 10 life boats. they hang off the sides of the ship five a side all in a row. so in the rare case of a catastrophic accident at sea, that makes exactly 130 drunk college kids per life boat. its like titanic all over again. some would say it makes for a bad omen.
but they werent on spring break.
the last night before we left i told a girl at the bar that the only things i was looking forward to were clear salty beach water and fruity drinks with the little paper umbrellas in them. she laughed and said something about shopping for bathing suits, but by then it was too late. i was daydreaming. i laughed.
daydreaming on the highway however is not a laughing matter. especially at 7am and its dark outside and youre driving thru rural south carolina farmlands on i95. and then georgia and then all down the length of americas penis. twelve hours in all in a car with three other guys and one other case of gas. damnation, these bahamas or whatever better be fucking worth it.
i never thought that boats and alcohol went together but a boat full of drunk college kids and sailors who didnt check id's showed me why they should. and six hours after that, they unleashed us upon the island. and just like when you get served back, its on.
 we stayed at the port lucaya resort, a ring of pink two level huts surrounding the pool and the hot tub and surrounded by the marina. room 117 of the bahamian motel six was better than the sheraton across the street because the shops and laid back restaurants were closer. the shops and restaurants where $10 could get you either 3 tshirts, four shot glasses, or two shrimp and a corona. but the nobodys from road real world rules or whatever got all that for free, cuz they hung out with the dj and and the crazy host, who happened to look like an anorexic lil jon. yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaah.
the beach was absolutely stunning. everyday. the water almost glowed with the clearest turquoise like a bottle of bacardi silver. i stood in the water to my waist and i could see my feet. not that i was looking at my feet.
i believe in the sand beneath my toes, the beach gives a feeling an earthy feeling.
at night we all went to the square, the large open pavilion/dancefloor/stage surrounded by bars. it was jam packed with people every night, but two for five coronas and one dollar fruity carribean rum shots will do that. the dj for some reason felt the need to speed up every song he played, including dancehall remixes of usher and 50 cent over britney spears' toxic. everybody leaned back and raised up and did the a town stomp. we'd show up by nine every night and the pretty girls would too and we'd all dance the night away.
and after a five days four nights in paradise, it was time to get on that damn boat again. but the difference was a little bit of madness in a little month called march. six hours on the rocky seas on a ship with not enough life boats isnt so bad when youre parked in front of a 60 inch plasma widescreen tv
 with
high
definition
we spent the last day of break in miami, home of the heat and where money is a major issue. we'd bang pitbull out da trunk and cruised down south beach, home of tony montana and vice city itself. i saw palm trees and art deco apartments and thought of bloody chainsaws and motorcycle ramps. then we drove by shaq's house. and by drove by, i mean drove on the highway going over the bay in which the island where shaq's house resides is located. its pretty big, almost as big as his yacht.
yet another 12 hours driving on i95 later, we returned to chapel hill and officially began rehab detox mode. chill the fuck out for 48 hours and hope you make it to class on monday morning without puking. dont be jealous.
at 11am on monday, i walked into class looking alot tanner and feeling alot better. and with that it was done. it was over.
best week ever. spring break, we hardly knew thee.
posted by accident at 8:02:00 PM +
 
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