I lived through the Fyre Festival, but worse…(part 2)

Check my last blog for the recap – I won’t recap it, it’s right here on this site.

It was early am, Monday, in Mexico, sitting in beach chair, staring at a pile of shoes (the ones that hadn’t been stolen) and luggage.  We had little to no sleep, NO BOOZE (the horror), and nowhere to sleep.  I mean, as fun as sleeping next to a tiki bar on the beach was, it was surprisingly cold and the whole being burgled thing was annoying.  Keep in mind this is pre-cell phone, right smack in the middle of the whole calling card and pay phone craze of the late 90’s/early 2000’s.  We somehow managed to find that estudenttravel.com had an office in Cancun.

We managed to get there after finally eating and there were dozens of angry and abandoned college students in line, all screwed by the overbooking mishap.  Not enough people cancelled?  Eh!  Screw these paying customers, they’ll figure it out.  A couple of my pals had enough.

One of my buddies, normally very laid back, walked past the line, past the counter and right into the manager’s office.  There was bat in the corner, which my 6′ 1″ 235 pound pal grabbed and promptly told the manager we needed hotels and transportation for 20 in an hour.  The manager said he was calling cops.  The manager was told if he said anything in Spanish into the phone, the cops wouldn’t make it in time.  We had four taxis pull in within an hour and whisk us to an all inclusive hotel.  If we didn’t, it would have been on the news – American tourist clubs man to death over hotel mishap.

Everyone went right to bed except me and one other brave soul.  I came to party, not sleep.  Since it was a Monday, they had a piano player.  I sat and drank straight whiskey and listened to classical music like I wasn’t actually some dumb hillbilly for once.  After about two drinks, I went to sleep for 13 hours straight and NEVER LISTENED TO CLASSICAL MUSIC AGAIN.

The week was fun, I got free Pina Coladas from a bartender named Shoe, saw a fat German guy in his 50’s dancing in a speedo and we got free drinks from a drug dealer because my friend was so drunk he fell over and the mafia types thought that was hilarious.  Of course, when we went to fly home, our tickets were gone again and we went through a similar situation where ultimately, my buddies Brody and Nate volunteered to be the two left out and had to stay in a Mexican airport for an extra day, then got dumped in Atlanta with no more flights.  Their parents had to drive from Ohio and pick up them up in Georgia.  I would have volunteered, but I have a medical condition called being an asshole, so I couldn’t.

In summation, sorry you got ripped off Fyre Festival people, but you paid money to see a music party with Ja Rule hosting, so it’s really your own fault.  Boo hoo.