During my junior year Spring Break in college, my roommates and I decided to head to Panama City for Spring Break. Now, typically one would be excited for something like this, but we had a couple things working against us on this particular getaway.
1. We were driving there...from NC.
2. We were allowing our girlfriends and some of their friends to go with us
3. Our Spring Break was in late-February (can that even be considered "Spring" break)
4. All but one of us was under 21
As you can imagine, things did not turn out well at all. Let me recap some of the finer points:
Friday Night Fights
The first night we get there, it's just me, my two roomates and my girlfriend's roommate. We've come supplied with plenty o' liquor including a handle of Capt Morgan (my drink of choice), which we proceed to finish before heading out to the pool. Yep, sounds like an after school special to me.
Within moments, I have decided to dive on in. Oh yeah, I said dive. And whatayaknow, water's only about 5' deep. So for the remainder of the trip I have a wonderful chunk of skin missing from the top of my head where the pool plaster tore it off. I'm drunk, so it doesn't hurt at the time and we go about our business.
Not sure what happens next except I remember trying to help some chick who was more wasted than us in another room. I believe my "TIPS-trained" technique for seeing if she was OK was to slap her in the face, but everyone seemed to be OK with that.
Unfortunately, the slapping continued later, when my roommate the K man decided to slap me on my bare ass after I took off my wet clothes in the room. I pulled a Brad from "The Inferno II" as I ranted and attempted to fight my roommate. Unfortunately, as I've mentioned before, he outweighs me and all that I get is tossed into the AC unit and thrown onto a bed. As expected, a fight like this only bonds friends closer, I was fine by morning.
This part of the trip is more amusing, but I'll make it brief. We finally got into one of the clubs and were able to drink, as one of the bouncers gave us a friendly stamping on the way in. When it was time to leave, I told the guys I'd drive my car (a 1990 Mitsubishi Eclipse) back to the hotel to grab the other girls which had left earlier. Cabs are expensive when you're in college, so we wanted to avoid that. Anyway, my girlfriend decides to come with me to make sure I drive OK, and we head out to the car.
Twenty minutes later, my roommate the B man is wondering where in the hell we are since the hotel wasn't really that far a drive from the place. It's at this point that he notices that my car is still in the parking lot and there are people standing around it and looking inside as they walk by. So he walks on over, sees my bare ass (perhaps with a hand print still on it) banging away. Nobody ever said I was classy.
This is two separate events when it became apparent that my girlfriend had gone stir crazy...or just plain crazy, who knows. Here's the lead-in, not so bad. There were 8 of us in this small room and it had been raining for most of the time we were there...cold the rest of the time. On one particular night the storm got really bad, right about the time that the toilet backed up. We called the repair guy but they were taking a while. Against everyone's better judgment, my girlfriend took off in an angry rage to go get a someone to fix the damned shitter. She was gone for about 10 minutes, and of course the guy came right after she left. So as you can imagine, when she came back completely soaked and with news the guy was on his way, she was pretty pissed when we said he already came and fixed it. I don't think she spoke with anyone the rest of the night.
And that silence continued into a second night...and this is when things got really weird. Refusing to talk and basically turning into the small child from The Shining, she latches onto my roommate, The B man's, wrist. I'm talking about to draw blood latching.
"Get her off me or I'm going to hurt her!"
She has no reply and a glazed look in her eye, as I try to pull her off. Like a scared cat, she releases her grip and reattaches herself to my arm.
Shit, this hurts! Well, I'm drunk and I'm in no mood for this kinda pain. So I give her an ultimatum.
"Since you're not talking and obviously are irrational, I'm gonna give you three seconds to let go."
(digging in deeper)
So I grab her head with my hand and bang it into the wall. (Like you wouldn't have done the same thing) She let go and finally spoke...and punched. You can't ask for a better Spring Break than physically abusing your girlfriend in front of 7 of your friends, right?