Lu, in college, everyone goes to Mexico for spring break. It’s a right of passage. Of course, you will decide to go to one of the most expensive private Universities in the country, so you will only be able to do a proper spring break once (which was more than enough-trust me). You will spend a year saving for one of the most ratchet experiences of your life. Note to self- next time you save for a trip, go to Europe not Mexico. You and your intimate group of 30 friends (you only talk to 4 of them now) will pack your bags and head to Acapulco. You will stay at an inclusive resort -which will include all you can eat and drink options. You will drink your heart out with your closest friends, tan on the beach and head to the clubs. You will dance with the devil at Palladium. You’re probably wondering what that means. So there’s a guy who is covered in silver body paint who has his own theme song, they’ll get really original with the song title (it’s called “dance with the devil”) and I swear you and everyone in the club will freak out (almost as much as ravers freak out when the bass drops) every time you see him.
The day before you leave (which you are more than ready to do at this point-7 days of cheap booze and horrible food will make you want to leave anywhere) you will decide to challenge your guy friends to a drink off. Let me tell you now, it was a horrible idea and you loose. You’ll get sick and you’ll opt to stay in rather than party it up that night. You’ll be sound asleep, with your bags packed, when you hear a loud bang on your door at 4 in the morning. Let me give you some context-there are kids at all hours of the night screaming and running down the hall. At first, you ignore it. The kid, bangs again and starts screaming, “The hotel is on fire! The hotel is on fire!” You’ll leap out of bed and grab your 4 girlfriends (yes, you all crammed into the same room). You’ll open the door and this guy will hand you wet towels to hold over your mouth. It’s in the moment you realize, the hotel is actually fucking on fire. So here’s the thing- you will already have an irrational fear of fire. You will live through a house fire as a child (everyone was OK and you get to stay in a rental house which Sisqo (he’s a C list singer) later bought and showed on MTV cribs #ballsohard) . You’ll run so fast out the hotel room door that you’ll forget to put on sandals. You’ll run barefoot down 20 flights of stairs (which will be covered in puke and beer bottles). You’ll step in some barf (#eww) and everyone will make it out ok. Your parents will call you an hour later, after seeing your hotel on the news. You’ll tell them you’re ok (which you are minus the barf on your feet) and use it as an opportune time to ask for some emotional distress shopping money (the proposal will get shut down). Everyone is totally fine, you know minus the hotel, but nothing a little facelift can’t fix. You’ll be allowed up to collect your bags and passport. Luckily for you, your portion of the hotel only suffered smoke damage, so you can actually make your flight. You’ll leave Acapulco and never look back. You haven’t been to Mexico since, partly because you will never be able to top this story.