I was never the cool kid in high school that got invited to cool trips. My friends were all too poor, as I, and the other people I talked to were... well... just people I talked to. I was never invited to "parties" by the cool kids which I am not going to lie it sucked. I wanted to have stories about getting drunk and being the hot girl's mistake, I was willing to bite that bullet.
That is why I jumped on the opportunity to go on a spring break trip... two weeks before my 21st birthday.
One of my best friends, who shall remain nameless, calls me and immediately I think something is wrong, I can hear panic and urgency in his voice. He says "Hey man, one of th guys that was supposed to go on this trip just dropped out because of an emergency. Do you want in? All you have to pay for is food, and part of the hotel and gas." I am not going to lie I was hurt. Why am I the last resort? Am I not cool enough? Is this the hand I have been dealt for life? The answer so far is yes. Then he says "There are going to be a bunch of girls there. One guy that went with us last year got laid every day we were there. That could be you." SOLD! "I'm in!" I say.
I drive to my friends place... 3 hours away. When I get there I find out that I am going with his friends who were all part of a rap group. Everyone is wearing flat bill hats, wearing gold chains, smoking weed. I am wearing a half-zip sweater with jeans (Kentucky is chilly in early March)... I looked like their manager.
The drive was pretty uneventful except they played a song they produced basically non-stop the entire drive. It also consisted of them freestyling to instrumentals, which they were actually pretty good at. The tried to get me to do it but I am the absolute worst at it. I have no rapping abilities. Seriously... I rhyme cardboard with envelope. At one point they started roasting me via freestyle. "Here we go, here we go, riding to Panama City Beach with Jorge looking like a straight up bitch. He dresses like he robbed some old mans clothes. But you gotta be careful not to make him mad because he will straight up stab you with his big ole nose." Kind of hurt my feelings.
We end up getting to PCB a little early, before our room at the Hampton Inn was ready so everyone decides to chill out in the car... except for me. I decide that I am going to take advantage of the next 45 minutes and go for a short run, get to know the surrounding area by foot, and of course look at some pretty ladies. Instantly I realized why Panama City Beach was, and maybe still is, the STD capital of the world. The parking lot smelled like a yeast infection.
By the time I came back the room had become available. I should have known how this week was going to go based on the guy in the parking lot trying to hustle people out money. He was doing the game with three cups, he puts a ball under one, moves them around and has you guess, if you get it right you win money. Really annoying guy. Then when we are walking through the hallway to our room two older fucks start asking us for weed or alcohol. Like they don't look like straight up cops from Super Troopers. Yea, guy that looks 43, let me give you weed and alcohol as a 18-20 year olds. Pedophile I say!
There is one bed and a pull out couch... for 5 guys. Someone was going to get lucky accidentally. As we are settling in we get word that my friend's girlfriend and friends have arrived. I was unaware of this. But I get excited because I was promised sex and apparently everyone, except my boy's girl, was fair game. As I am getting introduced to these girls I start feeling them out, trying to see who I have a chance with. At an early age I knew where I stood on the totem pole... Usually the guy digging the hole. I start talking to the girl I feel I have the best chance with. She wasn't ugly but... she wasn't a dime either. She looked like she got fingered a lot.
That day we decided that we were going to go clubbing. We were going to pre-game, go to these spots, dance, have some fun, etc. We were all pretty broke so the first place we went to was a bar behind a motel and the cover was like $8 but if we showed up early and stayed through then we wouldn't have to pay. The music started at 10pm and we got there at like 6:30pm. We were super early, super sober (by this point), and super annoyed. But like any true testosterone driven young adult, we made the sacrifice for the betterment of the tribe. We were all going to get laid tonight! Even if it meant on the same bed... I want to say I am joking but I don't know that I am. Again... hormones.
The night is going great, the DJ is killing it, we are all having a jolly good time! Now the rest of the town starts to come in and some really hot girls are showing up. This might be my lucky day! I might not have to settle after all!
The more people show up the more the dance floor starts to get rowdy. I wait about another 30 minutes before making my move. Asking a girl to dance is a numbers game when you are not attractive. I have a 16% closing rate.
I see a really cute girl so I go for it, She's pretty close to the speaker... "YOU WANNA DANCE?" "MAYBE IN A FEW SONGS, I NEED TO GET A BREATHER!" "OK!" I take that as a no because I am a gentleman. And then I see THE girl. She is outside of the fun cluster of people in the dance floor, kind of by the bathroom, just moving back and forth, side to side, a real white girl dance. I was like "You wanna?" assuming she knew that I meant dancing. She bends over and makes a really weird sound and gag face... I am pretty sure she is dry heaving from all the alcohol she has consumed. I take that as a yes. We dance for half a song before her slightly less drunker friend comes and sweeps her away. I wasn't too disappointed, her breath smelled like canned corn.
Everything was going great, we were all still feeling good, having a great time when we witness some dude push down one of the girls that was part of the group that came with us. I wasn't having it! I walked up to the dude and before I could say what I wanted to say which was "Excuse me sir but you do not push down a lady. No matter how far she had her skirt up and how thongy her underwear were." He punched me in the face... 3 times. He then proceeded to hop out in dancing fashion which basically said to me " You aint shit!" Which was true... I tried to be the hero but I got a "two piece and a biscuit" according to the roast that ensued from my friend and his friends. I was defeated physically and emotionally. Even the girl I tried to defend never said "thank you" or "let me make it up to you by giving you some of this spring break head." I had a purple lip and blue balls.
Even the girl that I had met earlier wasn't there for me anymore. The last resort that got away I call her (just to myself). Well she ended up going to the beach with one of the rappers... and got fingered.
The story isn't over. That was just the first of what happened to be two very super eventful days. The rest of the days we seriously considered leaving early because of all the bullshit we had to deal with. Can you believe one of the girls stole one of Ramen Noodle cups?! The balls on her! I would have understood if she acknowledged me and was nice but she was an asshole. And yes I went into her room and took that shit back. Do not fuck with my noodles.
The second night was also very eventful but I am going to keep it very short because I was not hanging out with the guy that got into a fight... we just found him right before.
We all split into groups, some of us went shopping, others stayed in bed, some went to get breakfast, and some apparently went day drinking. We were completely unaware until we came back to the hotel and saw one of the guys (white guy) shit faced walking around the hall way upset that everyone left him. He had been so hungover that he did not get up in time so we left. We were not the only ones to find him at the most inopportune time. Apparently there was another rap group in the same hotel from the same town *cue dramatic music*. This was some deep rivalry shit. It was like seeing a UK basketball fan run into a Louisville fan. The air stood still for a split second. Then our guy starts being overly friendly with this other group. You can't be friendly with thugs, they take that as "gay shit".
Luckily for us it was our white guy vs their white guy. It was like watching Eminem fight Macklemore that then turned into a dance battle. I tried to save our guy because he was drunk but got shoved into the wall. I still have a wall burn spot on my wrist... that shit burned.
This was my second fight in as many days and I was over it. And to top it all off I still hadn't gotten laid as promised. I felt like everyone was out here getting AIDS except for me and my feelings were hurt.
After 4 days of being in Panama City Beach everyone was mad. The weed was gone, everyone had spent their money, the sunburns were starting to peel. Then something magical happened... some really pretty-in-the-face girl came out of nowhere. Well ok I am being rude, she had some huge titties too. This was our last night in PCB and I was going to release the hounds. I was going to do everything in my power, besides rape, to get her to have sex with me. Later that night we are all drinking I could tell she was feeling her buzz because she kept saying "I want Waffle House." This was my time, my moment *cue Lose Yourself by Eminem*.
Around 11pm I see her staring at me, just looking deep into my eyes with those drunk blues, bags under her eyes, slouching over her drink, and what looked like pop tart crust on the side of her lip and I knew this was it.
So I whispered "Do you want to go to my room?" She says, kind of loud, "Has anyone seen my hairbrush?" and then she says to herself "i think it's in my room. I'm going to go get it." I take this as "Hey come with me." We walk down the hallway, she tries to open her door, I hold her in my arms very sensually and try to nibble on her ear but before I get to it she opens the door. She goes into her side of the room where there are mountains of clothes and hair straighteners, hair curlers, make up boxes, and Victoria Secret body sprays... everywhere! But I don't care... I am a man and I will have sex with whoever, wherever, whenever even if I end up with nail clippers clamped to my nipples at some point (It could have happened).
She finally finds her brush and I am thinking "Ok, here is my opportunity. Hair brush really means sex." Nope, hair brush meant hair brush.
I go for it. I go in for a kiss, and try to make my move... She says "Nope". So before she starts screaming "stranger danger" I leave the room never to see her ever again. I am pretty sure I didn't sleep at all that night just thinking about how I never got laid in the place where you are supposed to. Even my mom before I left the house to go on this trip said "Make sure you wear protection." My mom never even had that talk with me prior to that day. There was no "Birds and the Bees" talk. There was the "Look at your brother! He can't even pay child support" talk.
So I failed even my own mother, my friends, and most importantly myself.
If you are wondering what happened to that girl that got pushed down in the middle of the dance floor she ended up marrying that guy and having kids with him. So there is a happy ending to this story... They got married, I didn't get herpes, and that other girl keeps getting fingered to this day. Legend has it that if you go to your bathroom, face the mirror, turn off the lights, and sniff your finger 7 1/2 times she will show up behind you with a bottle of KY Jelly.