British Boy. Spanish Guy. Scottish Guy. Parisian Guy. Green Collar Guy. Green Collar Guy's Friend. Good Dancer Guy. Good Dancer Guy's Friend. Little Italy Guy. British Guy. British Guy's Brother. There were a whole lot of intriguing characters staying in the Playa de las Americanas and between the three of us we got to know a good number of them. The fact that we were the only Americans on the island only enhanced our allure- by the second night we were already being greeted with a cheer ("Las Americanas!") and a round of vodka red-bulls.
Our days and nights on the island soon settled into a wonderful, dream-like routine. We'd wake up around 4 in the afternoon and lounge about on the terrace, trying to piece together the night before. At five or so we'd head down to Little Italy and attack the tropical pizzas. We couldn't figure out what was making us so ravenous and shaky and desperate for food until one day someone happened to count up the red bulls we had consumed in the last 24 hours.
Our days and nights on the island soon settled into a wonderful, dream-like routine. We'd wake up around 4 in the afternoon and lounge about on the terrace, trying to piece together the night before. At five or so we'd head down to Little Italy and attack the tropical pizzas. We couldn't figure out what was making us so ravenous and shaky and desperate for food until one day someone happened to count up the red bulls we had consumed in the last 24 hours.
2 before going out, one at the first club, plus a couple rum and cokes, plus a malibu and coke, then four vodka red bulls at O'Neills, and then another couple at Bobby's.... no wonder the world seemed to be vibrating. We were suffering from severe caffeine hangovers. And, just as alcoholics beat their own hangovers from drinking again, our only known remedy was to pick up another 6 pack for the evening.
"Aren't vodka and red bulls supposed to be like.... really bad for you?" Chastity queried, as she watched her hand spasm involuntarily in awe. I scoffed.
"God, Chastity. Loosen up. People will tell you anything is bad for you." "No really. I've heard that people have like, died."
I snorted, but started to consider cutting back when, by the fifth day, my heart felt like the little drummer boy on speed.
"Aren't vodka and red bulls supposed to be like.... really bad for you?" Chastity queried, as she watched her hand spasm involuntarily in awe. I scoffed.
"God, Chastity. Loosen up. People will tell you anything is bad for you." "No really. I've heard that people have like, died."
I snorted, but started to consider cutting back when, by the fifth day, my heart felt like the little drummer boy on speed.
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