Spring Break 2010 is not for another ten months. So please stop sending me those weekly Facebook invitations to sign up for special group trip packages to Acapulco. I don’t care how many wristbands you can get me for exclusive “VIP” club access, and I really don’t care about how I can score a free trip by becoming a campus rep.
I’ve never been on an organized spring break trip to Acapulco, so maybe this is why I simply can’t understand the attraction. Sure, binge drinking, nice weather, casinos, and standardless members of the opposite sex are awesome, but these spring break staples can be found elsewhere. What ever happened to good old road trips, and adventures to corrupt domestic cities like Vegas and New Orleans? Don’t give me the drinking age excuse…we all know you Aculpocoers have the “illest” fake ids. No, I’m not hating on the wonderful display of self-entitlement and excess that is spring break…I’m just not sure why a bunch of primarily Jewish college kids choose to congregate in this degenerate city overcome by drug wars and swine flu.
The thing that bothers me most about these Acapulco trips is how they change those who go on them. In addition to returning from Mexico with George Hamilton-like tans, spring-breakers often come back with a smug heir of accomplishment. When I ask peers how their trips were, I often hear the common assertion, “It was amazing…but I don’t know if you could handle it.” It’s like their week of fist-pumping at Palladium equates with conquering some great natural force like Kilimanjaro.
Sometimes, my friends display brevity when responding to my inquiries about their trips. They’ll give four word answers like “you have no idea,” while showing me the bracelets still on their wrists (really?), shaking their heads, and emphatically exhaling. If I went on the trip of a lifetime, I’d want to talk about it. But no, you jerks act like you just returned from a second tour of duty in Vietnam. Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll have to be more sensitive when asking you “veterans” questions about your past experiences.
All of you past and future Acapulco champions… I know your dreams are to fly over a rainbow so high. But mine are for you to just shut the fuck up.