Day 0 Part 2 – Day 1

Day 0 Part 2

As we went up to our rooms, I was slowly creeping into
depression. My room was decent. Bed, bathroom, tv. Standard protocol. I go over
to the corridor to hang my coat, and suddenly, the most beautiful thing in the world
catches my eye: four full size bottles of tequila, vodka, rum, and gin standing
on tap line the wall. This isn’t a mini bar; it’s a fucking maxi bar. My heart
skipped a beat and I felt faint. Maybe this vacation won’t be so bad after all!

Day 1, Monday,
November 6, 3006,

 

I think I consumed more alcohol today than every other day
of my life combined.

 

Mind you, I never got fuck drunk, per se. But my buzz
was maintained for much of the entire day through a combination of shots, White
Russians, and Black Russians. The first time I ventured over to a bar, I got a
White Russian with no problems (remember, a red wristband indicates that I
cannot have alcoholic beverages.) The next time, I tried to get a Black
Russian. The guy handed me the glass, and as I was walking away, he exclaims,
“Hey! Hey!” Seeing as I was caught red handed (or, perhaps, red wristed), I
suppose I had no choice but to surrender the drink. But before I did, I took a
big gulp right in front of the fuck.

 

Fuck these douchebags. I have an entire fucking bar in my
room.

 

As I walked back to my room, I was healthily drunk. I walked
in, made myself a rum and coke and lay down to watch a little TV. I think
something that everyone should do at one point or another in his or her lifetime
is watch Dora the Explorer…wasted. The hilarious part about Dora the Explorer
is that over here, it’s in Spanish. The show is about a Mexican little girl
Dora and her retarded monkey pet, Boots. In the States, the show educates
little American boys and girls to learn small Spanish phrases in order to
culture them and add to their acceptance of various ethnic backgrounds. Here,
it’s vice versa; the entire show is in Spanish and various little bursts of
English pop out. As if the show isn’t hilarious enough when you’re plastered,
hearing some Spanish voice over spit out malformed English is just Goddamn
hysterical.

 

I also happened to catch a movie on TV. It was some old
flick with Nicolas Cage and what seemed like Sarah Jessica Parker to me. I
actually liked the movie. Cage lost a shitload of money to some casino boss,
and in order to settle the debt, he had to let his fiancée spend the week with
the guy. But the guy had a motive to actually get the chick to fall in love
with and marry him. Long story short: the bad guy and her didn’t get married,
Cage jumped out of a plane for her, they kissed and married, and the entire
audience said, “AWWWW!”, went home and masturbated.

 

Today, I gained a newfound affection for rum. It is
delicious. While vodka is elementary and plain (it is literally alcohol
distilled from wheat or potatoes), rum has flavor and body. I treated myself to
more than a few shots over the course of the day.

 

That night, I ventured over to the discotheque, and I got my
first taste of the “clubbing atmosphere.” It fucking sucks. The music is shit.
The girls are fat and ugly. And the fact that I’m sober is not fucking helping
things at all. These places are tolerable when and only when you are
wired to the tits.  

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