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Spring Breakers Making Memories In Florida

It’s a pretty simple formula: Spring Break + Alcohol or drugs = trouble.

Not every state is like Washington. In some states, they actually take you to jail with real criminals if you are found with marijuana in your car or on your person. Yes, even half a joint.

The legal age to drink in every state is 21, but in college that seems a rather antiquated law.

Law enforcement sees things differently, just sitting there waiting for a passing spring breaker to be a little too excited to get to Florida and begin consuming the aforementioned party accouterments.

And there is always a few, like THIS guy… Let’s just say that when your first decision is to buy seven 30-packs of Natty Light and some weed, then fly down the highway, you may not be the sharpest tool in the shed.

At least that was the opinion the Okaloosa County Sheriff after running into a 19-year-old on his way to Florida for Spring Break.

Yep, he got an overnight stay in jail.

Which reminds me of the time I went down to Panama City, Florida back when I was in college. It was the dead of summer, about 100 degrees on the sandy beach and we had a cooler full of cool drinks. Inside the cooler was also a jug of Shroom Juice my friends had made the night before, which looked like Kool-Aid.

Now, we drove down with dreams of parting with who knows who, doing who knows what. The sky was the limit and while some folks I was with liked to party, I was more of a casual drinker and since I was the mellow guy they left me in charge of the stuff when they went on a bathroom run.

Now, it was hot and I had a cup of ice from the burger joint we drove past before getting to the beach. So I kept sucking on that drink while I waited by myself on that beach blanket in the heat.

I look over my shoulder to the left and I see a family on the back porch of their beach house setting up for a barbecue. I thought to myself how nice it would be to do that one day, have a grill and look out on the ocean. Nice.

I finished my drink and opened the cooler. For some unknown reason, instead of grabbing a beer or soda, I decide I want to chew my ice some more and pour the “Kool-Aid” in the cup. So, I sit there for the next hour drinking this AWFUL fruity drink in the heat. Oh the tremendous heat.

After a while I began to feel sick to my stomach in this oppressive heat. I looked around and my friends were still no where to be seen and I am just sitting there on the blanket in the heat on the beach by myself. I was hot, so I kept drinking that Kool-Aid. Chugging it down, because I was obviously dehydrated or something.

I was beginning to feel nervous since a really long time had passed on the beach by myself. My friends had apparently had trouble finding a place that would let them use the restrooms for free, so they drove to a few places before having a grand time going through a tourist-trap shopping extravaganza.

I did not know what was happening, but I was starting to trip balls on the beach by myself and unsupervised. The hotter I got, the more I drank of that weird tasting “Kool-Aid.”

I look around and there are smiles and people laughing and playing in the water. It looks so cool and refreshing. I decided it was time I cooled off.

I stood up and turned around to notice the nice dad that had begun grilling was serving his kids burgers and they were sitting down to eat. I took of my shirt and began to turn toward the water when it hit me like a wall – BOOM! I was flat-out tripping on shrooms and the world had changed and was churning.

I started running for the water before I passed out. It seemed like the logical choice.

My stomach and bowels decided they were going to release at the same time.

So there I am, by myself on Panama City Beach with families and thousands of college spring-breakers watching as I run toward the water.

I am not sure what a guy spewing from his mouth and ass looks like while running into the water, but I am pretty sure it is horrifying.

I dove into the water and swim as deep and as far as I can and reach the sand bar. I stand up and turn around as I come out of the water. I look toward the blanket and the beach house and I see the father grabbing his children while shielding them from the unfolding scene on the beach. They are literally running for their lives into the house as they grabbed their freshly grilled meal.

I act like I am really enjoying myself in the water and trying to play it off as I try and swim away from the vomit and festering mess in the water around me. So I swim and move down the beach in deeper into the water so I can somehow take my shorts off to rinse them out. Just keep swimming, I think, just keep swimming.

I clean myself up and realize that passing out from heat exhaustion in the water is not exactly the safest activity. I hadn’t realized what was happening to me because I had never used “magic mushrooms” much less tasted the weird tea or juice you make from it before. I did not know what was going on, I was just freaking out.

Just as I made it back to the blanket, my friends arrive. I informed them what had just unfolded on the beach and that we had to leave straight away before the police and paramedics showed up.

They laughed their asses off at my horror and confusion, but noticed the horrified look on the surrounding beach goers and we promptly left. They explained that apparently, vomiting and diarrhea are a side effect from consuming shrooms; though they had never heard of anyone having such an extreme and immediate reaction.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in the cool air conditioning watching amazing cartoons in the hotel.

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