Day Three: Party Time Part Two

As planned weeks before in NY, we would head out to Orlando this afternoon. There was already a small group of friends from NY and Miami having a prequel there. After a lot of over packing on everyone’s part, we began the drive. Well, I began the drive because I was the designated Orlando driver. The rental was a beautiful luxury car with 40 miles on the speedometer. It was really hot. Mr. Messina gets kudos for making a great vacation ride choice. I drove the first 3 hours at an oh-so-cautious-of-state-troopers-speed of about 80 to 100 miles per hour. The hemi engine of the Chrysler 300 was giving us a lot of miles per gallon and we seemed to glide past cattle and orange trees. I abandoned my post as Captain about 30 minuets from Orlando because my ass was killing me and beginning to fuse with the new leather. Kevin took over and beamed us up to International Drive in no time. I-Drive was way overpopulated. The traffic sucked! It was reminiscent of driving on Canal Street in the middle of rush hour. Ninety percent of the hotels were booked and had no vacancies. I cursed German tourist, Gay Day fags, cant drive on the right side of the street members of the European Union, and all the nickel and dime gimmick shops that maintained rubber necking at an all time high. After a short while, we wormed ourselves to a hotel with a vacancy. We took a light nap, showered and then headed to Club Firestone. We paid a $30 dollar cover which included an all you can drink (till the 2:30am last call ordinance) wrist band. How many watered down drinks can you have in two and a half hours? Some of us counted 20. We had a great time, drank like fish, got a lot of attention and caused marital problems for can’t-hold-their-liquor native couples. At closing we did what many Floridians tend to do after the club closes. We waited around the parking lot for after hours party info and endured a few last minuet failed attempts at come-ons. We heard about an after hours at the Sheraton and headed out. We got there rather quickly and after paying the ten dollar entry fee realized that we stood out in what was an all Black party that was not offering any music other then Dirty South Booty music. We Two Live Crewed our asses out of there and left our friends behind to work on throwing up the watery remnants of their Saturday on the Sheraton lobby floor.