There's a Jimmy Buffett line that we old folks love to pull out to make us feel like we're still young and cool (or, at least, cool): we are the people our parents warned us about.
On our last night in Belize, our room was the spot for the "Drink all the booze" Happy Hour for our gang. As befitting a Princess, I did none of the work. The party was actually hosted by Crash, Susan, Sandy and Howie.
It started out normal enough. Everyone brought their leftover beer, wine, Gin, Rum and mixers and there were snacks. Enough snacks to become dinner for me. Not enough snacks to keep me sober.
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Nice booze soaking material |
The evening went on in normal, adult mode.
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Enjoying the conversation |
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That must have been a great story |
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Jokes were told |
But, then the alcohol fouls started.
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My oops |
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Howie's oops |
Jello Shots may have been a contributing factor to the beginning of the shenanigans.
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The pusher |
The shenanigans:
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Poor Darrel didn't stand a chance |
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Don't look, Susan, you'll be scarred for life! |
Then, the alcohol really kicked in.
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I felt compelled to document that this piece of bread fell on the floor -
oh, you demon Rum! |
And, the party ended with this:
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It's like we were home |
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Why? Because she had to. |
The next morning, I was sitting at breakfast and uploading pictures to Facebook. At the table next to me was the woman who had been staying at the resort all week and who had the room directly below ours. At the table on the other side of her, was another the couple whom I didn't recognize.
This was the conversation I overheard:
Lady I didn't know: Did you hear that party last night?
Downstairs neighbor: Yes, it was right above me.
LIDK: We thought it was a bunch of college kids!
DN: Nope, it was just Parrot Heads.
Those damn youngsters ain't got nothing on us.
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