The Key West Chronicles – Part 5
The Key West Chronicles
Part 5
Day 3 – 7:00am
If you haven’t noticed yet, sleep is a rare commodity on this voyage. I’d have to say throughout the trip’s duration, I probably accumulated 10 hours or so of actual sleep; thank God for Red Bull, Tilt, Skittles, and adrenaline. Anyways, back to the journey. I break out of my sleep as rain begins to pour down. If only piers came equipped with roofing, life would be good. I look next to me and see AJ covered by some sort of magical unicorn blanket that repelled water and wind while insulating warmth. I try to find shelter under my poorly chosen sheets (pillow case and towel), but this is a fruitless attempt. My bedding absorbs water instead of repelling it, helping to keep me cold and miserable. Now the rain isn’t even the biggest problem, it’s the wind that really fucks me. Strong wind and cold rain is not a friendly combination for rugged outdoorsmen (Spring Breakers who can’t afford a hotel). I felt like I was being dry humped by a glacier. Although the shower only lasted about 10 minutes, the damage had already been done. I assumed the frozen fetal position and somehow managed to fall back asleep.
Day 3 – 10:00am
3 hours of sleep, now that’s what I call relaxation. I wake up to another pier full of onlookers. This time I’m not startled, for this is now normal to me. I look over at AJ and can’t see him; every toe, finger, and hair follicle on his body is covered by the unicorn blanket. I hop up, say my good mornings to my roommates (random old couples on the pier), and take a moment to gather my thoughts. Ok, let’s think, where is my life going and where are all my possessions. My luggage is at the Joads’, my wallet, complete with overdraftable debit card, is in my back pocket (so very clutch), my cell phone is still alive and with me, and my dignity, well I’d have to say that waved bye bye after I created the “Will Sell Soul For Casual Sex With Drunk College Chick Or Local Key West Homosexual” sign. Anyways, before I decide to rudely wake up AJ, and more so because I fear I’ll have to pay for his breakfast as well, I skip over to the beach bar/grill, hoping they sell breakfast. This is the same beach grill that is owned by the hotel (I tried sleeping here once, you might recall). I grab a seat and about 15 minutes later someone notices me.
Dumb Person “Hey sweetie, would you like a menu?”
Me “Yeah, that’d be great.”
Dumb Person (who apparently works there) “I’ll be right back, what can I get you to drink?”
Me “Water please.”
Dumb Employed Person “Sure thing, rough night huh?”
Me (thinking) “Please shut up and bring me my water idiot woman.”
As I’m waiting for Dumb Employed Person to bring me a menu and my requested beverage, I scope out the beach. Unlike yesterday, the crowds are not out yet. I grab a newspaper off the table next to me and immediately filter out the Sodoku and crossword puzzle (lie, I went straight for Family Circus). I’m not really interested in the paper, I just want to look busy so I’m not “that guy” who eats alone. Enter Dumb Employed Person…
Dumb Employed Person (as she hands me a menu and a glass of water) “Here ya go!”
Thank God she brought me a real-sized water, and not one of those 2 oz jello shot “cups.” I most definitely would have behaved as chauvinistically as possible.
Dumb Employed Person “So you ready to order?”
Me (baffled) “Yeah, as soon as I take a look at the menu.”
Dumb Employed Person (being dumb) “Oh that’s right, Geez, I guess I had a rough night too!”
Me (wishing I had something heavy to throw at her) “It happens.”
She walks away, and I rip through the menu. I don’t know about you, but I’m one of those people who stares at a menu for a solid 10 minutes or so, yet does not read one item. Clearly I did this like usual. Enter Dumb Employed Person…
Dumb Employed Person “So you ready sweetheart?”
Me (feeling as dumb as said Employed Person) “Actually I haven’t looked, what do you think?”
Helpful Employed Person “Well what are you in the mood for?”
Me “Breakfast, like an omelet or something?”
Helpful Employed Person “Well our specialty is the Crab and Shrimp Omelet.”
Me (grossed out beyond belief) “Let’s do it.”
Helpful Employed Person “English Muffin or toast?”
Me (spoken like a true Key Westernian) “Do you have whole wheat?”
Confused Employed Person (looking at me like I’m the receiver) “Um sure, coming right up!”
Me “Thanks love.”
Did I just order a Crab and Shrimp Omelet? Wow, I deserve what’s coming to me. She brings the food out so fast that I can only assume they had messed up a previous order and stashed away the remains for the next unsuspecting victim (me).
Bad At Recommending Things Employed Person “Can I get you anything else?”
Me “Some Tabasco sauce would be great!”
The One Upper Employed Person (as she points to it at my table) “There ya go!”
Me (feeling like I took the short bus to this restaurant) “Yeah, I’m dumb.”
You know how when you eat something that tastes absolutely terrible, you immediately offer it to someone else so that they too can understand its misery? Yeah well I had no one else to punk out, so I ate the entire thing. It did not taste good. About 30 minutes later, I’m done with my meal and the check arrives. I hand her my debit card and cross my fingers in hopes that the transaction will go through. As she goes to run my card, I once again have a moment of self-reflection. Not having heard from my folks, and having no money to my name, I become a little perturbed as to how the rest of this voyage is going to work out. Before I have a chance to actually freak myself out, Dumb Employed Person returns.
Dumb Employed Person “Here ya go, I hope you have a great day (please tip well).”
Me (thrilled to complete my 2nd overdraft) “Oh I will, and you too, no more rough nights!”
Yeah, I know how to be cute. I tip out, stand up, stretch, and then look for a good place to go throw up (lie, but it took every muscle in my stomach to hold this shit down). It’s now time to go wake up my co-pilot and start getting sauced up.
Day 3 – 11:00am
As I approach the pier, I notice the crowd of elderly couples has tripled. I walk towards our resting spot and see an AJ-shaped unicorn blanket. I talk to an onlooker.
Me “You want to see something funny?”
Before they have a chance to respond, I rip the blanket off AJ (praying he wasn’t “exposed”). With pants still intact, he jumps up faster than a cock at a nunnery. The onlookers are surprisingly amused.
Me “Oh good, you’re up!”
AJ (on the struggle) “What? What time is it?”
Me “11ish, get up fool.”
AJ “Alright, how long you been up?”
Me “Not long, I just grabbed some breakfast (pointed) while you got your beauty sleep.”
AJ “True, I’m fuckin hungry.”
Me “So what’s the plan, you wanna roll over to the Joads?”
AJ “I don’t have my keys.”
Me “Why not?”
AJ “They’re in my bag, which is at their place.”
Me “So very very worthless. So how are we going to get there?”
AJ “I don’t know, it’ll work out.”
Allow me to digress for just a moment.
Now if you don’t know me very well, I am a very laid back, easygoing person; but in comparison to AJ, I’m a cokehead who just blew his last line and is fiending for his next gram. AJ has no worries because he firmly believes that “everything will just work out.” I understand his position seeing as how it usually does. My favorite example of this is when he urinated in the corner of a classroom in high school. The teacher, after hearing chatter and seeing a wet spot that had leaked into the cafeteria below, could still not convict him; so she calls for backup. The school Principal comes to investigate the scene. He gets down on his hands and knees and smells the urine-soaked carpet. Then, he turns to AJ and says…
Urine-Huffing Principal “I know it’s just water AJ because I smelled it.”
How AJ didn’t laugh hysterically and totally blow his cover, I’ll never know. Back to the story.
Seeing as how it’s Spring Break, and I desperately want to flow with the “it will just work out” attitude, I take his word for it. We stumble around the block as AJ makes some phone calls. He gets a hold of our friend, the same friend whose place we we’re suppose to sleep at last night. That, of course, was until Sergeant Pole Smoker foiled our plan. Our pal says he can give us a ride to Johnny Boy’s place. Knowing he has no car, I become confused. Wanting to flow with the “it will just work out” attitude, I suppress this confusion. We walk back over to the Blue Marlon Motel, and finally reunite with our buddy (I think we made a pit stop at Circle K on the way so AJ could refuel, but I’m not sure). As we bounce through the motel parking lot, I notice the huge amounts of college Spring Breakers lurking about and take a mental note on how this motel might be a good place to actually reserve a room if we make it out for Spring Break ’08. The motel is U shaped, but there is one unit that stands alone; of course this is where our friend resides.
We charge up the staircase and barge through the door. Eureka! We have found the right place. Once I learn that Tracey and Audrey have also made it here, I realize that we’ll be taking the boat (Audrey’s ride) over to the Joads. As everyone is being hustled out of the room by a motel attendant, I see a pair of shorts that read “Monroe County Jail.” Apparently our friend’s cosigner (jailed Spring Breaker) had a little hiccup during last night’s chaos. This character (I can’t remember his name or how he is associated with us) was busted for urinating in public. Over the years, I’ve learned that the number 1 cause of Spring Break arrests is public urination, no matter where you’re Spring Breaking. So heed my advice and either find a legitimate restroom, or just piss yourself; although I’ve definitely never done that (lie). I ask to keep the shorts so I can pawn the arrest story off as my own, but my request is denied. Remembering that the Joads picked me up for the beach around noon the previous day, I’m hoping we make it there before they head out. I have given up on the “it will just work out” approach; we need to make it happen. Tracey appears, and as the 3 of us are being ushered hastily out of the hotel room by someone much more intimidating than Sergeant Blue Balls from the previous night, Audrey awaits in the boat (car). Allow me to digress for just a moment.
Audrey told me about how the rest of her evening went. Like I previously mentioned, her and Tracey decided to sleep in her car. They left the windows slightly cracked so regular airflow could occur. Apparently Audrey woke up when she heard heavy breathing; it was not Tracey. Some random homeless person/sketch ball had stuck his head in through the window and was watching her sleep. I’m so glad I’m not a girl. Back to the story.
We pile in and attempt to maneuver out of the parking lot. We make it about 5 feet before our buddy realizes he has forgotten something crucial. I figure that it’s his wallet or perhaps his favorite Pog. As he searches for the missing item, another accomplice from last night approaches the car. It’s Krets.
Krets “What’s up!”
AJ “Just chillin, gonna make it to the beach in a little bit.”
Krets “Yeah me too, so last night was interesting.”
AJ “Yeah, the same rent-a-cop was tryin to bust him (me).”
Krets “For real?”
Me “Yeah, that jerk off had no sense of humor.”
Krets “Yeah man, the cops were sniffin around here later that night.”
Me “Whatever, clearly we are above the law.”
Our buddy returns from the room; the missing item was a pair of fuzzy leopard-print handcuffs, seriously.
AJ “Alright man, we gotta take off.”
Krets “I’m sure I’ll see ya’ll down there.”
Me “Peace.”
Day 3 – 12:30pm
As we leave the hotel parking lot, we run into a very familiar problem. Again, we have forgotten the exact location of the hotel, and AJ is unable to get a hold of anyone at the Inn (Joads). Since the Blue Marlon is an entire block over (not far at all) from where we had started our trek to the Joads the night before, we are completely thrown off. Perhaps we zigged when we should have zagged, but before we know it, we are heading towards Miami. We have only been driving for a little under 10 minutes, so this is nothing a “U-ey” can’t fix.
Me “Yeah, let’s definitely turn around.”
AJ “You sure?”
Me (baffled) “Yes.”
As we head back, a “Welcome to Key West” sign clears up all the worries in the car. Somewhere in the mix, we were able to contact Monnin and confirm that everybody was still at the Inn. I rest comfortably as we pull up to the hotel near the neighboring Publix. AJ and I get dropped off at the lobby entrance, say our thanks, and stumble out of the car. We head right towards the pool; we have already been informed that this is where everyone is located. We immediately run into the crew and waste no time asking for a room key so we can retrieve our bags and change into pool attire (board shorts and a wife beater). Someone kindly hands me the all access pass (key), and AJ and I head for the room. I take a real quick shower to help rid me of some of the Duval Street stench. I return through the double doors and into the main room…
AJ “4.”
Me “4?”
AJ “4!”
Me (realizing what he’s talking about) “4.”
AJ “So what’s the deal, how we doing this?”
If you are confused, we have 4 Skittles left in our bag.
Me “1 each now, and then save 1 for the car ride home tomorrow?”
AJ “Let’s just take 2 each now?”
Me “We might regret that tomor… let’s do it.”
Shortly after eating a Skittle (Skittles), I spot gold out of the corner of my eye (and no, it’s not the mysterious $50 bill I found but for some reason decided not to keep). It’s a digital camera. And no, we don’t plan on stealing it and pawning it in (we don’t rob people we like, often). By “of way more value” I mean that it is time to take some very inappropriate, yet hilarious, pictures that the camera owner can enjoy later. AJ scrolls through the camera and punks me out with a picture of his asshole that he had taken the day before. Great minds really do think alike. Staging the erotic photo shoot is very important. Clearly the bathroom will become our backdrop. I have the brilliant idea to do a picture of me punishing the porcelain goddess via my anus. I know this sounds cliché and redundant, but it’s always funny. And of course I’m going to “jazz” it up a bit. AJ waits outside the bathroom with the camera as I ready myself. The idea is that he will count down from 3, and when he enters, I’ll be ready. I decide to “jazz” it up by squeezing so hard that my face becomes bright red, eyes become crossed, every vein in my face is easily visible, and my mouth looks like a ravenous pit bull who just bit into a meaty steak (and just to be clear, I’m not even going “number 2”, I’m faking it, which is surprisingly difficult). The reason behind the 3 2 1 countdown is because I’m laughing so hard it takes me a moment to gather myself and fall into character. It’s Showtime.
AJ “Ready?”
Me “Let’s do it.”
AJ “3 2 1…”
He enters and snaps the picture. He can barely keep himself together; this does not help my cause.
AJ (laughing) “Something’s wrong.”
Me (holding the pose and speaking with a very deep voice) “Did you get it?”
After hearing a “ding” from the camera…
AJ (laughing hysterically) “It’s on video mode.”
Me (laughing hysterically) “Is it still recording?”
AJ (in tears) “Yeah!”
Me (also in tears) “Well stop it and let’s try again.”
AJ turns the camera off, leaves the room, and I reassume the position (it takes a solid 5 minutes for all laughter to cease).
AJ “Ready?”
Me “Are you sure it’s on camera mode this time?”
AJ “Yeah man.”
Me “Ok, let’s do the damn thing.”
AJ “3 2 1…”
Take 2 is a success. After AJ shows me the picture, I fall off the toilet in laughter. If you can’t understand why this photo op was so funny, you need to grow down and become less mature. I’ve also caught wind that this picture now circulates the Internet; good luck in your hunt to find it.
Sidenote: I found it, so here it is.
We now realize that we’ve been in the room for about 30 minutes and it’s time to get the party started. We clean up our mess, put last night’s clothing in our respective bags, grab the key, and head back towards the pool. AJ walks over to where Johnny Boy and everyone else are lounging around; I immediately search for a “No Diving” sign and dive in headfirst. I see a raft floating around freely and conquer it (although it takes several tries before I can get on without slipping off).
Johnny Boy “What took you fuckers so long?”
Me (shouting from the pool) “Who owns the silver camera?”
Rachel “Me, why?”
Me “Nothing.”
Rachel “Oh God.”
Someone suggests that it is time for Smathers beach. Everyone agrees. Our 2nd day at the beach is assured to be as unrememberable as our first. We stop by the hotel room on our way out to grab any last minute items (mainly booze). During our brief stop, the crew checks out the camera (apparently anxious to see what I look like when I’m “stooling”), after their stomachs turn, they begin to laugh. Ok, here is where my brilliance comes into play. Knowing I had practically no money, I brought my most recent paycheck with me. It was for $254 and some odd cents. Unfortunately I had forgotten that I brought it with me; that, of course, was until I went snooping through my bag for my sunglasses (I did not want to repeat yesterday’s mistake). Still at the Joads, I walk over to AJ.
Me “Dude, Jackpot.”
AJ “What’s that?”
Me “A paycheck that I’m not suppose to spend because I will be beaten horribly, but right now I’m in Skittle heaven, so I’ll take the beating.”
AJ “Can it get us a hotel?”
Me “Not likely, well it can, but then we won’t be able to eat or drink.”
AJ “Ok, so we spend it on booze and sleep at the pier?”
Me “You read my mind.”
The mini van pulls up outside as we all gather our beach gear and head that way. I leave my bag; AJ brings his. His bag includes nothing more than our cell phones and wallets (enclosed in mine is the paycheck, so this bag becomes our 3rd Musketeer). The entire crew (Johnny Boy, Monnin, Chewy, Nick, Rachel, and Nikki) and AJ and I wait outside as Hairless Yancy has gone back into the room to find his left sandal (I don’t mean “left behind”, I mean “left foot”). After about 5 minutes of waiting in the mini van, we become disgruntled. Allow me to digress for just a moment.
The reason I refer to this character as “Hairless Yancy” instead of just “Yancy” is because, well simply that he is hairless from the neck down. Not due to alopecia, but due to personal choice. As we wait outside and wonder where he is, this conversation takes place…
Johnny Boy “Where the fuck is Yancy?”
Monnin “He’s inside.”
Johnny Boy “Doing what?”
Nikki (and this quote is why he is “Hairless Yancy”) “He’s probably just shaving something.”
Unfortunately I can’t make this as funny via writing, but I couldn’t stop laughing (perhaps it’s the Skittles to blame). The rest of the mini van recruits also got quite the chuckle. Ok, finally Hairless Yancy reappears. Normally, I would consider anyone who shaves their entire body a metro (homo) sexual, but Hairless Yancy is also the same kid who has reappeared complete with Rasta beanie with sewn in fake dreads (hence he is funny, and not a homo). Back to the story.
We do a buddy check; everyone is on board so now it’s on! 30 seconds later, we have reached our destination (Publix, we definitely did not have enough booze for the beach). Chewy, Hairless Yancy, AJ, and myself hop out of the mini van and stroll inside. At this point I am topless (my beater is in AJ’s bag), so Monnin throws me a shirt just incase Publix doesn’t support fun (haggard shirtless people). I put it on and become very confused. It is a white undershirt but appears to be covered in blood. Too giddy to let this bring me down, I rush into the store. I sniff out the beer aisle and find the crew chillin there. After picking up a suitcase (24-pack) of Natty Light and hoping I can indeed complete my 3rd overdraft, we head towards the check out line (I don’t want to try and cash my paycheck yet, we’ll do that as our level of desperation increases). I soon realize my wallet is in AJ’s bag (yeah, I really am dumb). I run outside, scream “Where’s the van?!?” I don’t care if you hate Dane Cook just because he got too popular; the dude is funny so fuck off. Monnin hears the shout and rolls up. I scuffle through the bag, pull out my wallet, and run back inside. Knowing that it’s Publix and they will ID me, I give my debit card to Chewy, complete with my “secret” pin number, and tell him to put the suitcase on my card. Like a scared little bitch, I exit the Publix and go post up near the van. On my way out, I bump into a long time friend and a fellow Spring Breaker. My buddy Alex, who I grew up with in my childhood neighborhood, is at the ATM taking out some cash (I become jealous).
Alex “Hey man, what’s up?”
Me (surprised to see him) “Oh no shit, what’s up dude, just pickin up some beer and about to head to Smathers beach.”
Alex “Yeah, we’re headin there too, I’m sure I’ll see ya.”
Me “Alright brotha, good runnin into ya, I’ll hunt you down.”
Alex “Sounds good, peace.”
I go and wait in the mini van while the “of age Spring Breakers” purchase the booze. I failed to mention that AJ finds a way to purchase a mini Heineken keg (at this point, I’m not sure if he has a dollar to his name, but living solely on his skewed principles, he refuses to drink anything light and/or domestic). Finally everyone emerges; Chewy had no problem helping me overdraft for a 3rd time (I’m beginning to feel like I possess a credit card as oppose to a debit). Realizing we are short on ice, Hairless Yancy runs back inside for the necessary mission. After he returns, the mini van is at full capacity (people are lapped up and sitting on coolers); it’s time to hit the beach.
Day 3 – 1:30pm
We arrive at the beach, and park in the same money spot that we had the previous day. Not having to change in the car again, the feeling in the air is that today will be a good day (true, remarkably enough). Hairless Yancy and I are on cooler duty as everyone else plays real life “Frogger” as they try and cross the street. Hairless Yancy and I do not have the agility needed for this game, so we just stick out our free hand, stopping traffic and hoping no one turns us into a hood ornament. Seeing how the mini van is unlocked and all possible windows are open, AJ brings his bag with him (which holds plan B, my paycheck). We make it across the road, over the bridge, and into the sand. We take a right and head towards yesterday’s home base (we are like dogs; we peed on this spot yesterday, so it’s ours). As we check out the crowd, we make sure the way-too-heavy cooler assures we get noticed (we grunt and groan, and eventually just fall over once we throw it down. This has gotten us the attention we’ve wanted). Behind us, a 6-pack of what appear to be hotties; to our right, a 4-banger of women plus two dudes (presumably gay); in front of us, 1 row of assorted Spring Breakers; beyond them, the ocean blue. Like a pride of Lion, we maul into the cooler. Unlike yesterday, today officers of the law immediately swarm us.
Officer Friendly “Ya’ll have cups?”
Me “Yeah (lie), we’re getting them right now.”
Officer Friendly “Sounds good, just don’t let us see cans or bottles floating around.”
Me “Absolutely not, good day to you sir.”
Clearly we have no cups, thus it is impossible for us to be “getting them right now”. Fear not, for I have noticed that the 6-pack behind us are definitely drinking out of red solos. It’s time to kill 2 birds with 1 stone. The introduction and cup abduction, let’s get it on.
Me (to the group of 6) “Hey oooooo, what ya’ll up to?”
Group Member #1 “You know, on Spring Break!”
Me (head knodding towards their cups) “Ya’ll drinkin hard?”
Group Member #1 “Of course, it’s Spring Break!”
Target acquired.
Me “Hey, I hate to be that asshole (lie), but is there any chance ya’ll have an extra cup?”
Group Member #2 “I think we might, check in that cooler (points). It’s 50 cents a cup!”
Me (playing along) “50 cents a cup? Oh come on, I just spent all my money on beer!”
Group Member #2 “Ok, well we’re getting low, so don’t tell your friends it was free.”
Me (grinning like a Skittled-up idiot) “Of course not, you guys rock!”
I hobble back to home base (5 feet away), and pour my first Natty into the newly acquired cup.
Hairless Yancy “Where did you score that cup?”
Me (pointing at the 6-pack behind me) “Not from them.”
Hairless Yancy stumbles over, works his magic, and reappears with a cup.
Me “Well that seemed easy?”
Hairless Yancy “They asked to see my ass for a cup.”
Me “So did you give them what they wanted?”
Hairless Yancy “Not yet.”
Realizing that the group of girls behind us seem friendly (easy), I slam a few more beers and let some time pass before I reestablish contact. About 3 Nattys and 20 minutes later, I stumble back over. Now let me clarify one thing: I am a straight shooter. I don’t beat around the bush (one, because this approach is always funnier, and two, because I’m not good at anything else). Here is my game…
Me (to Group Member #1) “Ok, it’s been about 10 or 15 minutes, is it still too early for me to start hitting on you shamelessly?”
For those of you thinking “that will never work”, try it.
Group Member #1 (smiling) “Where are ya’ll from?”
Me “Oh, we are UCFers, and ya’ll?”
Hot Girl #1 “We are from UF.”
Ah fuck, should I just cut my losses and go stroke it at the cyber café? What the fuck, it’s Spring Break; I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. Hot Girl #6 appears to be the leader (hottest) of the group. Hairless Yancy comes back over and we dive into a conversation that lasts about 2 hours but has absolutely no depth.
Me “UF huh, normally I would stop talking to ya’ll, but it is Spring Break.”
Hot Girl #1 “What’s that suppose to mean?”
Me “Never mind. Go gators!”
Hot Girl #1 “I should probably tell you that I have a boyfriend.”
Hairless Yancy over hears this remark.
Hairless Yancy “Boyfriends are really more like speed bumps than stop signs.”
I had never heard this brilliant comparison until now. Since then, I have used it millions of times and always claimed it as my original brand of humor. Oh well, I guess now the cat’s out the bag. The 6-pack gives us some numbers and we agree to meet up later tonight after they get out of a burlesque show they planned on attending. Back at headquarters, we drink ourselves into a haze. Since we were at the beach yesterday, I don’t need to give you the redundant play by play. Instead, here are today’s highlights…
AJ got into an exhibition-style wrestling match with some kid who wrestled for Purdue. It drew a crowd of about 50, including several cops that didn’t know it was all in good fun.
There were a ton of chicks flashing a camera crew that was producing some Girls Gone Wild wannabe knock off. Lesson learned here? If you want to get a girl naked, just show her a video camera and a free t-shirt.
I did a very acrobatic mini-keg stand.
Hawaiian Tropic girls flocked the beach, followed closely by creepy old men with video cameras. When did Aviators and Mustaches become the international symbol for Pedophilia?
Day 3 – 5:00pm
As the beach crowd flushes out, it’s time to head back home. Oh wait? We have no home. And now since our pals checked out of the hotel, we’re really fucked. Ok, let’s cash this paycheck and see if we can’t find a place to stay? One major problem, Key West is booked up like crazy by all the other not-so-penniless Spring Breakers. Also, hotels like to price-gouge the fuck out of kids around this time of the year. Audrey and Tracey drop us off at our car and AJ and I decide to make a play for a hotel room. We drive down Duval Street and call every hotel we see. No luck. Everything is either booked up, not available to kids, or upwards of $300. Just as we are about to give up hope and drive back to Orlando, a miracle occurs. That miracle my friends is The Old Customs Hotel.
The Old Customs Hotel is so small that we almost didn’t notice the sign while we were cruising down Duval. Just how small you ask? They only had 4 rooms. Room number 3 happened to be available. Here’s why…
Me (on phone) “Yes, I was wondering if you had any vacancy?”
Phone Lady “Actually we do, how many nights?”
Me (excited) “Um, just 1. I’m here on business.”
Phone Lady “Ok sir, well the only problem is that the room doesn’t have hot water.”
Me (like I give a fuck?) “Oh geez, I mean I guess that will be ok? Any sort of price break?”
Phone Lady “Well normally it goes for a little over 200. How about $100 for the night?”
Me (God? I love you) “That seems reasonable, I’ll see ya in a few.”
I have AJ wait in the car as I change into “business attire” (clothes I borrowed from him) and enter the hotel. Upon entry, I realize that “business attire” is not necessary. There is a courtyard where a party of 10 is eating. The Server/Cook/Busser/Host/Scientist also happens to be the Front Desk person. He is wearing several facial piercings and a “Famous” shirt. After about 20 minutes, he comes over to assist me.
Famous Front Desk Person “What’s up?”
Me “Yeah, I called about room 3? A lady said it was available for this evening?”
Famous Front Desk Person “Really?”
Me “Um, you tell me dude.”
Famous Front Desk Person “Let me grab you the keys.”
He hands me the keys, and I really think if I hadn’t reminded him to charge me, he wouldn’t have. Famous Front Desk Person smells like High School (weed). AJ re-parks the car at a new Headquarters and we go check out the room. This place is fucking PERFECT. Room #3 is upstairs and on the left. It has a queen bed and a full size that pulls out from beneath it. The bathroom is clean, we have a living room area, as well as a wet bar complete with minifridge. Talk about hitting the jackpot. The best part? The view from our spacious front porch shows us that we are now residing less than a baseball throws away from Irish Kevins! Like I said, God favors the drunks. We dump AJ’s gear in the room and decide to head back over to the Joads to get my belongings and pregame for this evening. Finally, a place other than a pier which I can attempt to bring a girl back to. With 150 bucks in my pocket, an indoor sleeping area located ON the bar strip, and a smile on my face, what can possibly go wrong on our last night of Spring Break? Well, in short? Everything…
Tags: aj, camera, duval street, Key West, old customs hotel, part 5, skittles, smather's beach, the dumbass chronicles, toilet
