Spring Bleak

The rehashing of spring break 2006, which was good and bad yet shall never be again. At least not with the same cast of characters. Here are the cools and the drools from this weekend:

COOL:
Malaquita Beach is really nice
Weather was beautiful
Farah’s Bar has friendly waitresses, is close to the house, and has an excellent men to women ratio
Sleeping outside in the sun with the cool wind blowing off the water and over your body
Tisdale wine is mellow and quite tasty

DROOL:
Letting the woman with only 3 yrs of driving experience at the helm of the trip.
Carsickness due to aforementioned reason
Listening to country music for 2 and a half hours is the WORST THING when you feel carsick
I quickly learned that the airflow in Amanda’s car is such that all air from the front seat is immediately thrown in the face of the person sitting in back. Consequently I was able to smell every word uttered. Gack.
Women who care more about getting the guy than how it makes others feelGoing somewhere cool with people who don’t really get you

Saturday evening found us in a bar by 8:30. The place was really perfect; relaxed, casual, mostly people in their late twenties, early thirties, and more guys than girls by about 3 to 1. This really big guy and his friend walk in shortly after we arrived. I know this because:A. There were not many people there at such an early hour B. Amanda and Connie both have a thing for really big guys (6 ft and above, 250 lbs and above) C. Knowing this I quipped that I would take the lanky one for a stroll on the beach and pick my teeth with him afterwards, as he was quite gangly and I am not. D. Amanda then noted his (the thin man) long pony tail and remarked that I could use a piece of his hair for floss, and the nickname “The Dentist” was born

“Laurel and Hardy” from earlier begin taking shots. And more shots. And more shots. I was sitting to their side and did catch the big guy’s eyes a couple of times. I knew that Connie and Amanda were interested, and I’m not into “types”, so this guy was OK but he didn’t make me nervous enough to warrant “attractive” status in my book.
The shots they had were black, or purple brackish substance, and since I can talk to any guy that I am NOT attracted to, and I knew Amanda and Connie were drooling over this hunka hunka burnin’ lump, I asked him what they were shooting. He told us and 10 minutes later we were bought a round. 15 minutes later our tables collided. 20 minutes after that I was trying to make The Dentist feel better about the fact that he was totally wasted because you cannot go shot for shot with a person who is approximately 6 times your body mass. He was a nice guy and, having imbibed on liquor two weekends before which resulted in me puking in Connie’s car, I could totally commiserate with his dilemma. Girls are coming to talk to us! YEAH! I’m too drunk to speak English! BOOO! He wore Birkenstocks and his T-shirt said “Sell your computer and buy a guitar”. Yeah, definitley interesting enough to hang out with.

So the night is going on and I’m talking to my Birkenstock Hottie when I notice that Amanda and Connie are gone, and so is the big dude. Oh well, I figure they were out for a smoke or something. Then Connie comes up and asks if I know where Amanda went. I said no. 15 minutes goes by. Connie comes back and asks again. Again, I say that I haven’t seen her. 10 more minutes go by and my little lanky stud muffin thinks he has to puke, so I hustle him out of the bar onto the patio which looks out over the water. 5 minutes after that, Connie again finds me and says, with tears in her eyes, that Amanda is not in the bar.

Now, I don’t know how many times you’ve been on all-girl excursions but I’ve gone to Mardi Gras, Matamoros, Mazatlan, and the rule of thumb is that you all stick together so nobody gets lost, abducted, raped, or kidnapped. NO MATTER WHAT, you tell everyone what you’re doing or just stick to the group. Knowing Amanda, I thought it was highly unlikely that she would be that irresponsible, so I turn to Mr. Stringbean, who is trying his hardest just to keep his shit together enough to stay vertical and not puke, what they came in and if he could show us where his car is. We wanted to make sure that he was still there, b/c all I knew was Amanda was gone, and this fat guy was gone too. We go to the parking lot and the guy’s truck is still there. Meanwhile Connie is having a panic attack. What, you didn’t know that Connie gets panic attacks? Me either! She’s crying and yelling, calling her friend in Colorado and the police officer she knows who lives 300 miles away. Meanwhile, I’m trying to get my little flower child to remember his friend’s cell number b/c Amanda is not answering hers, and everytime Connie comes near me all teary eyed I just tell her to call the police.

Amanda and I hung out hardcore 5 yrs ago, and from what I knew of her she would not just disappear for 30 minutes when it’s spring break, but Connie and Amanda have hung out for like 2 years now, so Connie would better know if Amanda would do something like wander off. Connie is too hysterical to call the cops, so I had to do it. I gave them descriptions of all parties, had to give them my name and they reluctantly said they’d sent someone out to the bar. 3 minutes later, Amanda and the bear-man come out of the bar like nothing happened. They were outside, below the patio on the pier. No, they hadn’t heard us talking outside. I gave Amanda my cell phone and told her to call 911 back to tell them she was found. I was very angry. I then told Amanda to deal with her friend Connie. We all ended up going back into the bar and having more drinks, but the whole thing just made me feel like “what kind of retarded bitches am I hanging out with?”

I was actually excited about the prospect of seeing these guys again. Since they were from SA, and they had a connection to Padre, I thought we might be able to hang out some other time. Amanda invited them to a bar for St. Patrick’s Day, and that was cool. Maybe I could talk to my skinny honey when he wasn’t drunk out of his mind. The next morning Connie told me that Amanda slept w/the fattie!!!! They were getting down and dirty on the patio! She could hear everything, and if they didn’t fuck, they got damn close.

What happened?! When did she turn into a slut? I feel stupid b/c I talked to the fat guy a little when Amanda and Connie were in the bathroom (after the whole police bs) and he was intimating that they (Connie and Amanda) were kinda “fighting” over him. I said “Well, Connie is pretty young and a little wild (read: slut puppy), but Amanda is a good girl.” Joke’s on me! She too puts out like a fireman to a fire! Not only is it difficult to accept that a formerly trusted friend that I have shared many a beer with has shed her affinity for just going out to see and to be seen, but is now "servicing" strangers, but it’s also disappointing b/c now I don’t want to go back to Padre w/them. They were all excited about our next trip, but the Island is a small place. You take home guys from the same bar time and time again, and everyone will know that you’re a slut. I don’t want to be labeled right along with them.

You know what this means. I'm going to have to start rockin' Friendster or something so that can go have a normal time with women I trust and respect. And speaking of trust and respect, The Dentist was a gentleman, yes I DID kiss him (3 times on the lips-"church tongue") and consequently I've been thinking of him nonstop for the past 4 days. (It's my cursed soft heart, which I SWEAR must have been placed on me as a baby by a jilted fairy godmother.) In any event, I sincerely don’t think that the guy who tagged Amanda in the 4-5 hrs they were awake and hanging out, is going to go through the trouble of driving to New Braunfels for St. Patty’s Day, so my little long-haired honey is lost in the haze of SA. But it was nice to feel wanted by someone, even if he was probably 3 drinks shy of full blown alcohol poisoning. Next time, NO KISSING! I hate pining for men for no good reason, but at least I'm not dwelling on my ex. If I’m going to dwell on somebody, it shouldn’t be the guy that dicked me over. (I'd rather be thinking about the guys who haven’t dicked me over YET.)