Tuesday: Slices/City Monday was a blast, and I think there’s a few sticks of dynamite going off. Oh no, that’s the sonofabitch on the aluminum ladder right outside my room hammering on the building at 8:30am. Now why would you do such a thing? So I rolled of the picnic table (sorry, I mean bed in Cancun), slid open the door to the balcony, and I pushed the ladder over so that when it went over at the apex it picked up speed and the tip finally hit the top of a palm tree lining the pool area. The guy with the hammer was unceremoniously dispatched straight down off the ladder and into the kiddie pool, and if he had a hammer… he hammered no more. So when I woke up from my dream Tuesday morning, some guy was hammering outside my window, similar to my dream but with a different outcome. He just kept beating the shit out of something one floor up and one room over. I couldn’t see what it was, and I wasn’t asking. So I got up, brushed my teeth and bumped into things for about a half-hour. I didn’t have anymore bottled water as I had finished my remaining one when I got home the night before (4 hours before?) and took a couple of Advil before I passed out. I was thankful for remembering the Advil, but I would have given the remaining ½ of my liver to anyone that would have shown up at my door with a full bottle. So it was off to the beachfront restaurant for something to eat and drink. A quick hello to Nick from England, Nate and Kyle from Minnesota, and Jorge the bartender – then I sampled some fruit, potatoes, and another omelet. Today I was smarter than the average drunk – I grabbed 2 glasses of juice instead of 1. Who says you can’t teach an old breaker new tricks? So I ate, ogled, tried to watch the yoga class on the beach without turning my head sideways repeatedly for a better look, and re-hydrated. After breakfast, it was back to the room for a well-deserved shower. As many of you do NOT know, it is not easy to shave your head after three straight nights of drinking until 4 or 5am. It’s imperative that the person holding the Mach 3 Turbo has a steady hand. I did not. I pulled a Van Gogh and sliced my ear so bad it took half a roll of high-quality Mexican see-through toilet paper to stop the gushing wound. Of course, once stopped, it was time to drink. I hit the beach bar running, Jorge’s elbow was in perfect working order, and the bottles were tipped with the flair and grace of a prima ballerina who moonlights as a juggling tightrope walker. Pina Coladas were the recipe of the day, and volleyball was my game. Now, some of you may only see me on the board as a ruggedly handsome, relatively shy boy from Connecticut with a penchant for wisecracks and knowledge of all things non-European. But I am one of those athletic types, sometimes. I do play volleyball one night a week, softball two nights/week plus the volleyball in the summer, and ski all winter with my Club. I only mention this because you must realize the immense privilege it was for 19, 20, and 21-year old college guys and girls form the Midwestern U.S. to watch me flying, diving, digging and spiking with skills last seen in the last Summer Olympiad. It was actually the first time I had played beach volleyball since last summer, prior to tearing a tendon in my ankle while playing the same sport on grass in the Fall. It’s a whole different game when you’re hungover and carrying about 25 extra pounds in the Mexico heat. Remind me to get back into my gym when I’m finished with this plague. So anyway, we really had a great time, I met many of the other hotel guests in person, and drinking mates for the future were guaranteed. At 2pm it was time for the greatest game on Earth – Tequila Volleyball. Now, I won’t go into the dos and don’ts of the game… if you’ve played you know, if you haven’t you must. I know is that if you are in Mexico looking for any or all of the following: sun, booze, removable bikini tops and good times… this game is a good place to start. We played for one hour, nobody knows the score, and everyone had a look in their eyes at the end that you’ll usually only find in a Paris Hilton mug shot. I decided to walk the beach a little bit, wandered down in front of the BBG in hopes of seeing Senor Ian at the Pool Bar. I didn’t see Ian, but I did see a lot more. Damn Girl! I hadn’t breasts bounce like that since the opening scene of Baywatch! For once I wasn’t wearing a hat, but if I had been, I would have hung it on the right one. Ahem. So I turned around, walked toward my hotel and ran into the cutest Colombian girl casually laying on one of the beach loungers in front of the quiet part of BBG. I don’t remember her name, but she asked me for a light. I could have used any part of my body, but I found my lighter. We chatted a bit and she is from NYC, and of course originally from Colombia. And of course she had a hot friend that wandered up from the water about this time and we talked about Cancun and I drooled and she smiled. She looked past me and pointed her cigarette at the two guys in the water and said that the four of them had arrived two days prior from New York and were staying for a week. In slow motion I turned around to look, and realized that fleeting irresistibility is better than no irresistibility at all. So she said ‘maybe I’ll see you out here again’ and I smiled and said ‘I hope so’ and made my way back to the hotel so smoothly my footsteps must have looked like hieroglyphics. Oh well, a good buzz and the smile of a hot woman goes a long way in my world. I decided to take a nap, partly because my liver asked me too, partly because there was still 2 hours until dinner and I had to meet Dan and his buddy at Slices to welcome Surfboy/Harry to Cancun at 9. Any more pool games and Jorge’s concoctions and I’d be lucky to know my name. So I slept for a couple hours, got up and was a new man. Unfortunately, some people at the hotel remembered the old ‘Connecticut’ (as I had become known) and were determined to meet him again. I headed down to the buffet and had some steak and pasta and random vegetable-looking things with Nick from England (Leeds if you care) and another guy from Belgium, Nick’s roommate. We talked about our adventures so far in Cancun, women, and plans for the night. Nick was supposed to go on the Party Hopper, the other guy was going to hang around the nightly Carrousel party. After dinner Nick and I found our way to the beach bar, and met up with 4 older British guys. One thing led to another, and Nick started ordering tequila shots. He admittedly was a beer drinker who hadn’t had tequila before, and soon it would show. We did 4 shots in an hour, and soon the Wisconsin guys were milling about. After shot number 4 Nick was three sheets to the wind, and Wisconsin was ready to play ‘Flip-Cup’. Connecticut was invited, as were the girls from Pennsylvania. Soon cups were flipping, and so was I. I had to meet the boys at 9:30 at Slices so at 8:30 I bowed out of the game and headed to the room to get ready, buzz firmly established. I saw Nick on the way out, and he was determined to do the club tour. Good luck, sir.. good luck. After a way too long shower, I got dressed, wandered out front and back on the drunk bus heading for Slices. I was running pretty late since I wasn’t moving too well, but I got there. Upon touchdown at the bar I found Dan and his buddy, and the myth and legend Surfboy a.k.a. Harry from Jersey. Harry and I have partied before at the Jersey Shore and up here in Connecticut, so it was good to see the man. Me and Harry @ Slices The four guys – Harry, Dennis, Dan’s buddy and Dan Harry was ready to GET IT ON Dan wasn’t far behind His buddy joined in and guess what…. There were FOUR girls, and FOUR guys So we danced and drank, Dan (known from here on as Dan Juan) worked his magic, and next thing you know all 8 of us are heading to the City. Where’s Harry? So we wait in line, and then it’s our turn. Except the bouncer cuts the line off at Dan’s buddy. He’s telling the guy that the rest of his group just got in, but the guy is an asshole and mocks him, even making a gesture that it will cost money if he wants to go in right then. So his buddy gets pissed, and actually leaves! Now Dan has a dilemma. His buddy is pissed and left, and he’s got something good going with at least one, if not more of these girls. The girls don’t really want to pay the $50 cover for the City, so Dan decides to leave. Harry is up for the City experience, and I’m his welcoming committee, so with great difficulty watching all 4 girls leave with Dan, we say goodbye and it’s into the City Harry entering the monstrous club I had never been there, so I was quite impressed with the size of the place. We wandered up to the bar, and while waiting a fight starts to break out right next to us. We jump in and prevent one of those stupid egomaniac brawls, go back to the bar and begin double-fisted bliss. The girls are hot, Harry and I are taking it all in, things are pretty good. Some weak pics of the crowd at the City Harry decides to take off around 2 or 3, and we make plans to meet at the Oasis Viva at 11am the next day to head to the Grand Oasis. I decided to get my groove on and climb to the top of one of the middle raised dance platforms. I believe I stayed there for the next 2 hours. DJ Skribble came on and did about an hour long set. That was alright. A band played but I thought they seemed out of place. I ran into Nate and Kyle from the hotel around 4:30am… we B.S.’ed for a bit, they left, and I followed shortly thereafter. All in all, a fun night… and as you read and I heard about the next night, a much better night for Dan and his buddy. Good Times….