TBT: Spring Break Fight Club

March 11, 2013

It’s three days into our Spring Break in San Juan and all seventeen-or-so of us had seen the view from the Plaza de Armas, strolled through Old San Juan and befriended an overweight and over-pouring bartender behind the counter of a bar I’ll never remember the name of.

For the sake of the story, let’s just call it Fight Club.

Everyone gets too drunk off a liquored-up drink that’s mostly coconut milk and cinnamon (turns out, this bartender was actually the devil). We pretend to play pool, make friends with locals and take pictures on a (dangerous looking) balcony — or so the Facebook albums say.

We cheer on our college basketball team from the bar via ESPN En Español.

Twenty-something drinks too deep, we split into groups — each of them fighting because Katie is missing, we’re not quite sure why we’re leaving (spoiler: we’d all run out of money) and “Shut up, you fucking bitch.” I’m berated by my best friend, Ashton, on the side-streets of San Juan for letting the liquor in my liver take the reigns. I push his buttons and ugly-cry because we’re fighting, which only puts this whole thing on Repeat. Meanwhile, my roommate is lifting her maxi skirt and squatting on the cobblestone streets between a car and a Vespa.

“That is the meanest thing I’ve ever heard,” she says to Ashton, shocked, appalled and quite possibly still peeing. Hours later, he would look at me, hold my hands in his and say, “You know that song by Jack’s Mannequin, ‘Kill the Messenger?'”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what I did. I killed the messenger. I killed you.”

We regroup and head home, only to learn that — the entire time — Katie has been safe and sound in the company of Denis, Ryan and Gio. They left to buy a personal bottle of Bicardi from a grocery store because, When In Rome.

The following is Ryan’s personal account:

“Then I blacked out so I don’t remember what happened but we started looking for cabs in Old San Juan and apparently I told our friends to go get a cab but, in my blackedoutness, I thought they disappeared and dramatically caused a panic while everyone was fighting. Then I blacked out, went in SJ’s mom’s car* and told her how much I loved her son and was invited to their home in San Juan whenever I wanted (which I don’t remember at all). While in this car, I saw Rae fucking hanging out of this cab’s shotgun window and waving frantically for all of us to get in the cab. Like, just picture that girl halfway out of the window waving as this giant white taxi van comes barreling down the cobblestone narrow ass streets of San Juan. And then I fell out of the car (because I was so drunk, shocker) and stormed into the middle of the street in front of the taxi (which had to stop short because I stood directly in front of it so thank god I didnt die? Thanks, cabbie) and screamed at Rae, ‘RAE ANN, DON’T YOU EVER LEAVE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!’ to which she started crying. Then I re-blacked out.”

* SJ is a friend of ours who also happens to live in San Juan. Six days into Spring Break, he informed us that there were, in fact, open container laws and we should probably keep that bottle down.

The story ends with Denis and Ryan fighting in the courtyard of the Puerto Rican Marriott over who knows more about San Juan. Denis “kicks Ryan’s knees out,” calls him a pussy and Ryan almost get mulled over by a rape van. All this time, he is sporting a Panama hat he purchased at a gift shop.

#Culture.

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