miércoles, 22 de abril de 2009

If this boat's a-rockin

It has taken almost a week for me to gather my thoughts regarding probably one of the greatest shitshows of all time (and by gather, I mean literally piece together information in order to remember what the shit I did all night). I am not proud of my behavior, but I can't say I regret acting a fool...
Although it was officially called "Esperando Al Alba," or something along those extremely lame lines, the 5-hour boat cruise/dance party along the Guadalquivir last Friday night took on the affectionate nickname of "Booze Cruise." In no way is that a misnomer.

The hoodrats of Nervion met up at Viapol at around 10ish at Gambrinus, a bar with lovely atmosphere (oh, and those 1 euro jarras of beer are a checkmark in the 'pros' category. ca-ching). Although we were constantly harassed by a young child who appeared to be the kid from The Omen...
...we were somehow able to produce several rousing renditions of classics including, "I Will Always Love You," "Bitch," "Torn," "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?," etc. Another personal highlight for me was Andy and Coop's Spanish translation of "Single Ladies" by Beyonce. It sounds like a Bollywood closing number, but it's pretty great nonetheless.

So anyways, around 11:15, 45 whole minutes before the Booze Cruise was supposed to set sail, we headed to the "metro" station near Viapol to get down a bit early and botellon with the Los Remedios people. I put metro in quotations because NOTHING about this system is "metro," save the guido Spaniards waiting for it -- after 20 minutes of waiting for the damn thing and only 10 to get on the cruise, we forfeited our 1,30 euro tickets and our dignity and grabbed cabs down to the river.

Our cab driver got us down there just around midnight. I got out of the cab and started sprinting (okay, you know me too well -- light jogging) down towards the dock area to hand out all 11 tickets I had bought earlier that evening. I'm glad we raced down there, because the boat left immediately at midnightnot. If you don't get my Borat humor, the boat did NOT leave on time (also a little Borat-y there)... it left at 1 am. As soon as it sailed off, I screamed, "WE'RE F*CKING MOVING!" in a fit of pure delight. Just.the.beginning.

Pretty much the night was just filled with dancing. In fact, as soon as I got on the boat, I was in the mood for a dance... so much so that I, along with a hot and sexy dance partner in the form of Jordan, started dancing to the mood music provided by a lone saxaphone player. Elle informed me that we were literally the only ones dancing, but I didn't care. I probably responded with, "I'M ON A BOAT!," another frequently used phrase for the evening. That moment was just the catalyst for my heinous 4-hour dancing spree.

Fergie said it best when she said, "Such a lady but I'm dancin like a ho," because every flashback of my night Friday has me cringing. I NEVER DANCE LIKE THAT. EVER. At first, I felt an apology was in order, but then I realized that everyone was just as bad as me, so it was okay. But yea, I mostly danced all night with Jordan. I fear that I might've shared several life secrets in the verbal diarrhea that often accompanies a delicious rum & coke, but he (hopefully) has erased them from his memory. I, however, can't get my mind off the sensual dances we shared, like this one...

It was a lot more romantic than it looks, I swear.

Another personal highlight for me, SURPRISE!, involves food. Yes, I realized beforehand that 5 hours without a snack would be quite the challenge, so I opted to buy a nice bag of German pretzel rods before our voyage. They ended up being quite the hit. I fed them to literally everyone in our group, including Andy, who was still a bit under the weather after a journey into the original Dirty South, Morocco. At the time, I was sure this was a good remedy, but now I just feel like an ass hole while typing it.

Time literally flew by on this amazing night. Before I knew it, it was almost 5 am. I gathered with a few of my fellow shipmates on the little stage just before we had to get off. We got to witness a few more awkward situations before we had to get off our lovely cruise ship and face the fact that it was over. It was a tough reality (for about 12 seconds).

We got off the boat & realized that a) it was about 5:30 am and b) Carolyn, Elle & Coop had already booked it home. So, that left little old me to walk in the presence of two studly and able-bodied guards - Vincent & Andy. The walk home might have been equally as unreal as the cruise itself. Right off the bat, Vincent starts using a voice very similar to Heath Ledger's Joker or something. At the time, it scared the living shit out of me. Later, I jaywalked against my will, running and screaming across streets without any cars in sight. We also faced several Spanish low riders who wanted to holla. Andy defended my honor by screaming at them to leave me alone (in English, but who can think at Spanish at 6 am? nobody).

The boys also insisted on stopping for a quick pizza at the gas station in Nervion, the only establishment open at this hour (I miss you, Harris Teeter & every 24-hour drive-thru!). There, we met two presumably gay Italian-Spaniards who kept asking us where to get breakfast. Dude, it's still dark out, chill out with the breakfast idea. They ended up getting pizza and chatting for a bit about why they like Viapol clubs better than others: the maturity of the patrons. It felt a bit ironic that they were talking about chill clubs with adults to 3 people who had just finished raging on a booze cruise, but that's cool.

The rest of the walk consisted of Andy warning me of puddles in my path and me proceeding to jump and splash in each and every one of them. I walked into my building at 6:20 am, passed out in bed, and stayed there all day Saturday. I wasn't hungover, really; I just didn't want to do shit. It was rainy out, in my defense. After exhausting so much time and energy on the cruise, there was no other way to spend Saturday.

I hope this blog has given you a taste of the absurdity that was the Booze Cruise. If you are my friend on Facebook (if not, you absolutely SHOULD NOT be reading this), take a gander at my freshly tagged pics from the night. Like an idiot, I forgot my camera, but others captured some very telling images. I, however, feel that I revealed a wealth of information in this blog, and am crossing my fingers that my parents and/or my extended family never EVER read this.

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