Oh hell, I was hoping THAT definition of my name would never find it here!
I was going to be nice and say how much I like this place and the people here, but then you all laughed at me…
So now you get to hear the tale of the worst “flux” I have ever had.
And now on to the show...
It all started my sophomore year of college when 2 of my friends and one of my friend’s girlfriend went to Cancun, Mexico (yes a diarrhea story from MEXICO!) for spring break.
The first day there, we went to this club where they were selling passes which allowed you to get free drinks at certain places at certain times and free food at certain places and allows you on to a booze cruise and just gets you in to ton of things. So we got all of our stuff to our room, and go to the club. There was a HUGE line, and we got to the end of it, and I’m wearing a cutoff t-shirt and shorts seeing as its 85 degrees w/o a cloud in the sky. Well this line ended up taking 3 hrs to get through, and I am there with no suntan lotion….We get our passes, have a couple drinks and head back to our hotel. We get there and one of my buddies notices that my arms are BRIGHT FRIGGIN RED. I look down, and kind of laugh it off, b/c I usually burn a little before I tan and then I’m good to go. The problem this time was that my burn kept getting redder and redder for the next 5 or so hours, but I pushed through the pain and did the normal spring break activities for that night.
The next day we all went out to eat at this place that’s part of a really huge mall right by our hotel. We get some drinks, have some Mexican food, and then my buddy and his girlfriend head back to have some “alone time” at the hotel. So my other friend and I (already several beers in) decide to order some more drinks. We each have another beer, then he orders a margarita, which I thought about, but then decided against it, considering I wanted NOTHING to do w/ water in Mexico. So I order a whiskey sour, thinking it would just be some sour mix and some whiskey and I would be good to go. They bring out this 40 oz huge mug full of a whiskey sour BLENDED w/ ice. I think to myself “oh hell, there is no way I’m going to drink this, but then the waiter says its like a $15 drink b/c they used some crazy liquor in it and it was just enormous. I figure I don’t want to waste that much money, so I drank this gigantic concoction (I don’t think that I was already drunk had anything to do with it…).
On to the night of hell. That night the 4 of us go on a booze cruise, I had felt no ill effects from the huge drink I had earlier that day, so I figured I was good to go. I had started noticing more and more pain from my sun burn which was still only getting worse and was starting to bubble. I had already applied about an entire bottle of aloe to them, but it still hurt to have even my t-shirt sleeves laying on them. So of course all of us are just downing drinks on this booze cruise (which everything but tips was paid for – including a huge buffet that I took full advantage of).
Im hanging out talking with my friends, dancing a bit (funny in its own right as I am not blessed with the gift of rhythm) and then I felt it. The most horrible feeling and sound ever. My stomach literally cramped up, flipped over, twisted itself 100 times and cramped up. This feeling was worse than anything I had ever felt, but I knew what it meant….trouble. It seems that the ice I had earlier had finally caught up with me. I literally dropped my drink and looked for the only bathrooms on the ship. I finally find them, after doing the squeezed butt walk around the ship to find that the bathroom consists of only one toilet for the guys, and there was a HUGE line for it. Im standing there waiting my turn when someone comes out of it, and I look in, and the entire floor of this bathroom is covered in urine and throw up. The toilet is clogged and overflowing, I was in the worst pain of my life making sure I didn’t soil my britches. There was no way I was going to be able to use that bathroom…I started praying.
Thankfully, we were already on our way back to shore, and it shouldn’t be too much longer. And then some moron decides it would be hilarious to jump off the ship and try and swim the rest of the way back. Of course, when this happens, they have to go back for him (thanks jack@ss). This 20 minute delay seemed like eternity to me. I was really feeling the buzz from all my drinks, which made it 10000000 times more difficult to keep them cheeks tight. One false moment of relaxing and I would be in some serious trouble. My friends notice that I looked off, and I seriously was sweating buckets and my stomach was making the most god awful noises. I just tell them I had too much to drink and I was fine (their blood alcohol content made this seem like a reasonable story to them).
We FINALLY get back to shore and Im literally the first one in line to get off. I do the squeezed cheek waddle down the pier and make a dash (if you can call it that) for the aforementioned mall where I ate before which was right by the pier. I get there, only to find out the bathrooms were on the 3rd floor. This meant climbing several flights of stairs, which would not be possible as it would allow for a slight separation of the cheeks, which were the only thing keeping back the fire in my belly. I look around the 1st floor, and then I see the restaurant I had eaten before…time was running out. I run pass the greeter who said something to me in Spanish, and shuffled to where I “thought” the bathroom was, as I was not entirely sure. Whether I was right or wrong, my journey was going to end in about 10 seconds.
As luck FINALLY had it for me that night I was right. I go for the stall, and as Im dropping my drawers I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I drop to the seat and my feet literally left the ground and I found myself holding on to the side of the toilet seat w/ both my sunburnt hands for fear of being shot off. This episode lasted a good 10 minutes and 6 flushes. I had never felt so much joy and pain simultaneously as I did then.
The rest of the trip was a bust. My sunburn never went away until a week or so later, so I was pretty much held up in my room for the most part, which was also a blessing since I had the worst case of the runs ever. I didn’t let it stop me from enjoying drinking though. The only problem was that I had to do a shot of pepto bismol for every shot of tequila I did.
So thats my story, you all deserved to waste your time reading it for hating on me