I'm getting too old for this s-t. In her day, the Lush could get down with the best of them and rock Spring Break with somewhat-reckless abandon. But as I returned from the Bahamas last week, I was little but tired, poor and feeling old.
Let me paint a picture for you. The year was 2002. The jam was Nelly's "Hot in Herre." The Lush was a high school senior drinking for pretty much the first time. Nassau was nuts and my trip there spawned the Lush you know and love today.
Fast forward to last week. The year: 2006. The hot beats: the horrendous "Laffy Taffy" by D4L and "Temperature" by Sean Paul. The Lush was a college senior who could not keep up with the high schoolers gone wild around her.
I didn't want to judge the high school kids in Nassau - having been one of them just four years ago - but they made it really hard. I am glad school is back in session just to get away from all the puking (or making out, or both), annoying children and their "Growing Up Gotti" hairstyles and parents' credit cards.
Okay, the rant stops there... mostly. Despite the high school infestation we still managed to have a pretty great time. You may find a lot more anonymity than usual in this week's column, but, as you know, "what happens on Spring Break, stays on Spring Break." Unless you travel with the Lush, that is.
Let's get something out in the open right away. There is a nasty rumor going around that the Lush was "lame" and "went to bed early every night." There is even a nickname which the Lush may or may not have acquired - SBP '06 (Spring Break Pooper '06).
I am not going to dignify those allegations with a response. But I will offer this; the Lush was on injured reserve for the majority of the trip with laryngitis. As anyone who has ever been at a party or bar with me knows, chatting is pretty integral to my activities when inebriated. No voice means no fun. I leave it at that.
Furthermore, I do believe another member of my group passed out within two hours of arrival - right in her chair at the restaurant - and has been quoted as saying, "I don't think I'm cut out for Spring Break."
The Lush is not even going to try to go through every time we drank in the Bahamas - that would be ridiculous. So I will just choose the best drunk experience we had.
Although our night at Senor Frog's is a tempting event to chronicle - not only did we see a drunk high school boy pee under a table and get him kicked out but another dude got his ear bitten off - I have to say that our accidentally-drunken snorkel slash booze cruise tops that. Yup. His ear. For real.
We were pretty bitter when we arrived at the dock for our snorkel trip to find an extra five dollar charge for the open bar we had already paid for. In our anger, we decided not to drink at all, but had to pay anyway.
Well, the snorkeling pretty much sucked (i.e. there were no fish) and the people around us were annoying, so we decided we might as well make the best of things and toss back a few rum punches. As it turns out, that five bucks was worth it. They were making drinks with 151 (although they neglected to tell us that).
By the time we pulled ashore at Rose Island for some beach time, pretty much all eight of us were certifiably wasted. One friend and I were notably drunker than the rest, a fact traceable to us chugging straight from a bottle of Aristocrat-brand vodka that we made some tall boy steal from behind the bar while the bartender was on a break. This decision directly resulted in our frolicking and drunken photo shoot in the ocean and, subsequently, to said friend vomiting over the side of the boat on the ride back.
In award-worthy fashion, she rallied like a champ, enough for an absolutely wasted dinner at Senor Frog's in which we spilled an entire pitcher of water on the table, the Lush ate her weight in burritos, and then all returned to the hotel and passed out before 9 p.m.
I think that day proved conclusively that accidental drunk is the best kind of drunk there is.
Maybe I am getting too old. Considering my behavior was much better this time than four years ago, I would say that is probably the case. We did manage to raise a little hell, however. The Lush almost got in a fight (shocking), although it was to protect my friends from sketchy 30-year-old dudes. Some hickies were obtained (parents and professors, please note they were not mine). There were late night dips in the hotel pool and, rumor has it, a naked dip in the ocean (again, not I). There were impromptu dance parties, sunburns of all shapes and intensities, drinking games on the beach, a power outage, crappy souvenirs and even a couple of "wicked good boots."
Oh, and a message to the people on the first floor of the hotel who were doused with water by people on the balcony above you: I'm pretty sure you guys are in AEPi right here at Tufts. I have a confession to make. My friend did it. Yes, it was mean. She's sorry. She didn't know you were Tufts people until you started yelling at us.
So maybe the Lush just is not cut out for Spring Break. But if rocking Spring Break the right way means partying like and with 17-year-olds and state school meatheads then I am just fine with the title SBP '06.
One final point, which the Lush is personally very excited about, is something I discovered on a post-Bahamas trip to Holy Cross with my high school friends. Are you even ready for this? B.Y.O.B. restaurants!
Okay, so I am aware that this is not news to other people, but it was to me. I think it is just about the greatest thing I have ever seen. So Tortilla Sam's in Worcester, Massachusetts, the Lush salutes you. Medford/Somerville area - you've got some catching up to do!
