No more parties in Fiji. Listen, I’ll go anywhere for a good party. One time in high school some kid four towns over was throwing what was apparently one of the biggest parties of the year and I couldn’t find a ride/didn’t have my license yet. So, in fear of missing out, me and two friends took the public bus over to the party. It was worth it. It was not worth getting kicked off the bus on the way home because one of my friends threw up between his shoes.
That being said, wouldn’t change much. I’d still go anywhere for a good party. So I’m a little pissed that no one gave me a heads up about all the lunacy going on in Fiji after their first gold medal win ever. I would’ve been on a plane in a heartbeat. Specifically, Fiji Air.
Free beer or not, the parties themselves would have been worth the flight.
Goddammit. Sure, I feel as if a tall, white American male would have stuck out a bit. But I would have accepted those sideways glares if it meant being able to party with an entire country. Imagine being able to walk into any building with four walls in the entire country and be at a party. Bananaland. You show me someone who doesn’t like the sound of that and I’ll show you a liar. Maybe even a psychopath. Anyone who doesn’t like border to border parties are the same kinds of people who don’t like open bars. Never trust anyone who doesn’t overindulge. Self control is for sociopaths, and it’s only so they can save themselves for some horrible crime.