The beginning of Spring. So much promise, yet still so much crappy weather and so much class left before summer. That horrible time of year in between the end of football and the start of baseball seasons, with only your March Madness bracket (damn you Gonzaga, you break my heart every year!)and Girl Scout cookies to keep you going.
But there is hope on the horizon: Spring Break! A chance to get away from all the work you're not doing and visit a foreign locale! Spring Break, woooooooo!! Oh, happy day!!! So many exclamation points!!!!
- To choose to visit lovely [insert Spring Break destination], Go to #1
- Nah, screw it, to pass on Spring Break this year and just stay at home, Go to #2
You've made up your mind to put this time off to good use by getting so blackout drunk you won't remember your time off. Good for you. Of course, you don't want to create a series of priceless memories you won't be able to remember alone, do you? Of course not. Who are you going to invite along?
- Your closest personal friends and/or the ones with the most money/loosest moral code, Go to #3
- To gather together a delightful collection of movie cliches, including the jock, the shy girl, the nerd, the virgin, Teen Wolf, and the black guy, Go to #4
- To go on vacation alone, with nothing but your crippling social anxiety and brooding depression, Go to #5
Oh…hey…cool. I mean, last time I checked the title of this article was only “Choose Your Own Adventure: Spring Break” not “Choose Your Own Adventure: Don't Leave The Fucking House.” Makes sense that you would choose this path. Nah, that's fine, I only wrote 2000 words about a Spring Break adventure, but you just go ahead and stay home. You know, catch up on your correspondence, maybe play some Wii, masturbate while strangling yourself with a belt, things you clearly have no time for during the busy school year.
Fucking dick. END (choose again)
Seriously? You'd rather hang out with your boring friends than the Teen Wolf? He's a werewolf, for Christ's sake, a werewolf who can DUNK A FUCKING BASKETBALL! What do you mean he doesn't exist? You don't exist, okay? You don't fucking exist! Whatever man, you want to hang out with your boring-ass buddies; it's your choice. Go to #6
Oh man, who wouldn't want to take a vacation with Teen Wolf, huh? You wouldn't, that's who. And do you know why? Because five minutes after pulling out of the driveway, Teen Wolf rips your head off. Because he's a werewolf, you see, it's just his nature. You wouldn't get upset at the children for laughing, would you? It's just their way. They can't help it, just like Teen Wolf can't help killing you and trying to dunk your skull through the moon roof of your car.
Next time try partying with something that isn't a bloodthirsty, dunk-happy monster. END (choose again)
Yikes. Um, move along, move along. Go to #6
Thanks to the Internet, you've booked a flight and hotel room for the week to [insert Spring Break 2019 packages destination] with ease. You also spent the better part of an hour looking at pornography and trying to select tomorrow's winner on ESPN.com's Streak-For-The-Cash (your streak is up to 2, high five!).
Your bags are packed, your companions are at your side, and you're ready to go. Or are you? What's that calling you from the fridge? Why hello alcohol, it's been quite a little while since we last met. What's that you say? You want me to drink you? Well, what a saucy proposition!
- Maybe just grab a beer or two. After all, you better do what alcohol says. You wouldn't like him when he's angry. Go to #7
- Fuck it, bring on the hooch! This vacation begins NOW! Go to #8
- Wait until you're, you know, 50 feet from the place you usually do your drinking to start drinking. Go to #9
When you touch down in eight hours, you can't quite shake the feeling that something isn't right here. First off, no one seems to be happy they're on Spring Break. So many sad faces. Next, it's only 30 degrees outside. You blink back the booze-haze and try to piece together what your mistake was. You were at your apartment. You drank one beer, then another, then a third for kicks, then reluctantly switched to vodka, which somehow led to whiskey, then to tequila. Hmmmm, so far everything checks out. But still, something just isn't right.
That's because you got on the wrong plane and are now vacationing not in the beautiful beaches and good times of your Spring Break destination, but rather the Midwest, where fun goes to eat fatty foods and die. Have fun in Madison, Wisconsin! No one ever does. END (choose again)
Hey, here's a fun fact. Did you know that it's entirely possible for an airline not to allow a passenger on a flight if they are deemed too drunk to fly? It's true. Despite your friends' best efforts to convince the airline staff that you're “just resting your eyes,” your breathing heavy, drooling, and unconscious slump in the wheelchair they needed to borrow to get you into the building somehow gave you away.
Your friends head out to enjoy their Spring Break while you spend the week at home weeping into your Snuggie. Better luck next year. END (choose again)
You arrive at the airport bright-eyed and ready to begin your vacation. Nothing is going to stop you now. You touch down in [insert Spring Break destination]. It's warm or hot or humid or gorge– um, it's weather outside. Yes, it's definitely weather outside! You get a cab and are dropped off at your motel, excited to begin your weeklong adventure.
Um, wow.
Clearly, $14 a night for a motel room doesn't go as far as it used to. You take a long look at your room. Hey, is that a cockroach? Making love to a small dog? No, no, of course not—that's a cockroach making love to a large rat. On a portion of carpet that you hope is covered in ketchup, but you know in your heart is actually hooker blood. So much hooker blood. You turn and look out of your door. The man at the front desk, angry at dealing with drunkards all day, chomps on a cigar, only occasionally stopping to clean his teeth with a hunting knife. He looks in your direction and snarls. Well, maybe he's a bit stressed out today, but surely he won't mind one more little complaint, right?
- To complain to the man with the large knife and missing eye, Go to #10
- To suck it up and not bother risking your life for a fresh pillowcase, Go to #11
The man grins wildly and says he appreciates your observations of the condition in your room. If you'll only follow him, he says, he'll take you to a much nicer suite, one that will be much more accommodating for someone as classy as you and your friends. You think to yourself how smart it was to complain to the man only seconds before he smashes you in the back of the head with a blackjack. You wake up 14 hours later, groggy and unaware of your surroundings.
Whoops! You've just been sold into white slavery! END (choose again)
Is this really that much worse than the apartment you live in every night of your life? All that's missing is some leftover spaghetti on the floor and a roommate who cuts after getting a “C” on a paper. And, all things considered, the smell is about the same. You're home!
Besides, let's not overlook the fact that in a mere matter of minutes, you'll be doing what every other college student (and creepy older men with cameras) do at Spring Break. You know, put on a little Buddy Holly, relax with a fresh lemonade, and take in all the good vibes with your friends.
Nah, I'm just joking, you want to get stinking drunk, then do something you'll regret for the rest of your life, like having drunken sex on a table with a stranger while everyone in the bar watches, or beating a hobo to death with a hammer. So what's up first on the agenda?
- Hey gang, let's go see some sights. Go to #12
- Hey gang, let's hit a bar and get stinking drunk, like the writer predicted we would. Go to #13
- Hey gang, let's go see a cockfight! Go to #14
What? Get the fuck out of here. You're on Spring Break and you're talking about checking out the Hoover Dam? I don't even know who you are anymore. END (choose again)
Sounds about right. Who saw that one coming? It's Spring Break and you're on vacation, drinking, laughing, lovin' life, I don't know, Twittering. You're feeling pretty damn good. Kick back another shot. Yeah, that hit the spot. Do another. Nice one. Here, this next round, it's on me. Mmmmm, smooth, isn't it? Sure is.
You've seen some things…some things you were not prepared for, no matter how much alcohol you had in your system…things you can't un-see, no matter how tight or for how long you close your eyes. Things not quite as bad as the Verne Troyer sex tape, but still really, really bad. Two words: donkey show. Two more words: fucking horrific. You spend the next week drinking, but not “Hey, I'm having a great time” drinkin', rather “Hey, I'm trying to repress a memory here” drinking. And that's some hard drinking. I'll just give you and your mortification a little time alone. END (choose again)
Show us your tttttttttiiiiiiittttttttsssssssss!!!
Hey now, that's the right attitude, ladies! Way to get in the swing of things. You express your daring and adventurous side and/or love of plastic beads by exposing your magnificent (I'll give you the benefit of the doubt here) breasts to the world (or, more specifically, photos of your breasts to matthulten@aim.com, subject: BOOBS!, let's get those photos rolling in ladies!). The locals seem confused, yet delighted, as you've done so in a Wal-Mart parking lot and not from a balcony or in a bar or something. And you don't even end up in a Girls Gone Wild video! Good for you! And now back to the column. Go to #18
Not even going to flash your naughty bits in a pretend Spring Break scenario, huh? Well, screw you for having make-believe dignity! Ooooooohhhhhhhh, look at me, I've got soooooo much respect for myself. My daddy loved me just the right amount. Ooooooohhhhhh, I've got oodles of self-esteem and don't need the love of random strangers to make me feel good about myself. You are everything that's wrong with everything.
Whatever, Princess No Fun, Go to #19
Haha! Just kidding, you DO appear in a Girls Gone Wild video! Those cameras are everywhere, huh? Somewhere, your father dies a little bit inside. But who cares, because you've got beads! So many beads! God, these must be worth a fortune, right?
Moving right along, Go to #19
Drink, pass out, drink, pass out, drink, pass out—Jesus, it looks like Jonestown in here. Holy hell, it's Friday already?!? What the fuck happened?, Go to #20
Having drunk away most of the week, you realize your vacation is quickly coming to an end. But it's hardly as if Spring Break is only about consuming massive amounts of alcohol and/or illegal (in the US at least) substances. I mean, come on. It's also about hooking up with sexy co-eds or dabbling in lesbianism. Of course, you've got plenty of hot co-eds back home at college and frankly all those tight 20-year-old bodies have become a little boring to you (you son of a bitch). You're on vacation and you've decided you're in the market for something a little more exotic, huh? Fair enough.
Through the boozy haze and humidity of the evening, you spy an attractive stranger. The two of you make eye contact and exchange knowing glances. The next move is yours.
- If you're male and looking for an adventure: Go to #21
- If you're female and looking for an adventure: Go to #22
- Um, perhaps drunkenly staggering around looking for any miscellaneous freak to hook up with isn't the best idea, Go to #23
Whoops, you just fucked a dude. Welcome to the Crying Game, because you'll be doing a lot of that in the upcoming weeks, months, years, lifetime. It'll haunt your dreams! Go to #24
You just fucked something that looks like Fabio's cousin, but with Down Syndrome. Like the Elephant Man, but without the shining personality. Also, long story short, now you've got genital warts. BAM! Go to #24
Smart thinking. You know what you get for your reward? A quick handjob in the bathroom by a cute stranger! Yah! Go to #27
Well, you just made a horrible, horrible mistake. But now is not the time for somber reflection and vow for change, now is the time to get out of this situation as quickly as you possibly can. Oh…oh God…oh God…. How are you going to get rid of them?
You know what you can't out-run? Shame. Or herpes. You're now riddled with them both. Have fun explaining that one to your girlfriend/boyfriend/priest. END (choose again)
Smart. You awaken your partner with a gentle kiss and utter those three magic words and almost instantly, you're alone in your motel room. Unlike your toothbrush and dignity, your complete and utter repugnance to the opposite sex has accompanied you on this trip. No time to feel bad about that, as you've managed to get yourself out of a sticky situation. Well done, Go to #27
With all the dry heaving and desperate showering you did after your little tryst, you hardly noticed that, crap-hell-damn, you've got a plane to catch! You get your stuff together, awaken your friends and rush out the door. But look who's in your way; it's Little Pete, a local legend! He does a little dance for your amusement. You know what else he does? Steals your wallet. What are you going to do now?
- To call your parents, Go to #28
- To do, you know, “things” to get the money, Go to #29
- To say “fuck it” and decide to live in this tropical paradise forever, Go to #30
- To chase that little fucker down, Go to #31
Surprise! Your parents don't love you. Your parents and I discussed it over cocktails at our weekly get-together and we decided this was the best time and place to let you know. Oh, you'll still see them at holidays and such, but the magic is gone. Needless to say, you're on your own on this one. Better figure something out quick.
- How about a little whorin', hmmm?, Go to #29
- I ain't running after no one, I'll just stay right here, thanks, Go to #30
- Maybe you can still catch up to that little guy, Go to #31
Jesus, you're awfully quick to resort to prostitution, huh? You'd think maybe you'd explore a few other options before you just leap into blowing tourists in bar bathrooms. Wow, that was really quick. But hey, however you want to replace the money, that's fine with me. I mean, I'm not here to judge. I'm here to get serviced sexually in a bar bathroom. Here's your ten dollars, now don't make eye contact. END (choose again)
How does that life altering decision you made on a whim turn out? Not well, my friend, not well at all. But don't take my word for it, let's ask the Magic 8 Ball what it sees in your future.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, what happens now? How does this end?
8 Ball: Concentrate and ask again.
Me: Well, okay. Is taking up residence with no forethought in a foreign locale with nothing but your Rock Band skills to fall back on a good idea?
8 Ball: Future hazy. Try later.
Me: Oh, come on now, what happens? We're all dying to know.
8 Ball: You die alone in a gutter, okay? You die alone in a motherfucking gutter! Now leave me alone, goddammit! I'm not your fucking toy! END (choose again)
Midgets, according to their Wikipedia page, have little legs and slow reflexes and are easy to take down and even easier to beat the holy hell out of. Little Pete is no exception. After clubbing this man repeatedly about the neck and head, you smile gleefully as you search his person for your missing wallet only to discover it's no where to be found. Oh, wait, it was right here in your backpack the whole time. What a great laugh you could share with Pete if your beating didn't damage his brain beyond repair. No matter, as you kick his body into a ditch and continue on your merry way. Go to #32
You make you plane just in the nick of time and relax into your seat as you fondly remember the events of the past week. You drank a lot, had anonymous sex that made you feel really happy, then dirty, then really happy again, and may or may not have flashed a bunch of strangers in a hotel parking lot. So many precious memories. Anyway, pretty much like every other week you've had at college. But at least the weather was nice.
Congratulations, you've survived Spring Break! Now get the fuck back to class. You've got a term paper due in 11 minutes. END