My Last Spring Break
As I sit here in the 24-hour room of the my college's library (of which I still do not know the official name of), finishing up the last of some bullshit papers, and studying for the last college midterms I will hopefully ever take, I can barely concentrate because I know spring break is only four days away. Last night I had a dream that I was crowd surfing across some outdoor Panama City, Florida, club with a double-Jack and Coke in each hand rocking my BluBlocker shades and my Jermaine O'Neal high school jersey. I remember staring up at some flashing white strobe lights just before being set back down onto the ground, thinking Pillsbury, is this heaven? After my Airmaxs touch back down onto the ground, I turn to the nearest bar, order six shots of Jameson, take four of them in a row, and then give the other two to the two platinum blonds standing on either side of me. We have a few laughs, I pull out a Camel Light, one of the blondes lights it for me, and then I escort them both to a booth.
At that point I awoke to my alarm going off. I had slept through another two classes. With the sun glaring in through my bedroom window, I reach for my shades, turn on SportsCenter, and proceed to search for the closest pack of butts. It's senior year and I've got zero motivation. All my law school applications are out, I made Dean's List last semester, and I'm two months from graduation. But before graduation gets here, I've got one last conquest to undertake.
I switch the TV over to HBO on Demand and I catch up on the “How to Make it in America” episode I missed last night because I was out drinking on a Sunday celebrating another four-day weekend. I'm counting down the hours until I get on a flight to Florida on Friday to go celebrate the end of the best years of my life. I'm less than 100 hours from turning the dream I had last night into a reality. The episode ends and I turn on some beats before I turn the water on for a shower.
Oh, and just to be clear, I've got another class in less than three minutes. My iTunes is paused on “The Watcher” by Dr. Dre already. All I have to do is press play. In an instant, I find Dre's words truer than ever… I've seen 'em come; I've watched 'em go, Watched 'em rise, witnessed it and watched 'em blow. Watched 'em all blossom and watched 'em grow. Watched the lawsuits when they lost the dough. Best friends and money: I lost them both. What did that remind me of? For the life of me I couldn't remember just then, but it struck a chord with me.
Then, all of a sudden, as I finished pissing in the shower I realized what it was. I was a freshman in college. It was a Saturday night. Nassau, Bahamas. I'd been drinking since 10:30 a.m. I was at a strip club with my bros and I remember looking over at my bro sitting on a couch in the corner of the room with his arms around two absolute whales, eyes rolled back in his head, bumping to the beat. It seemed like just yesterday. Times have changed — my bros haven't. The chaying continues. Keep the memories, bros. Spring Break only comes around once a year, so go take every last penny out of your checking accounts so you're parents can't track you with bar and strip club charges, and come shot gun some brews in Panama City. If you can dream it, you can live it. For now I'm in the library, paying my dues to the Man but that's all about to change.
That's my two cents.