Cuban Consumption Crisis

Four years ago I went to Cuba with BrownTown, The Ukraine and my now ex-girlfriend MJK. Why would I bring my girlfriend on a trip like this while my friends left their girlfriends at home? Because I got fucked, that's why. Initially we were all supposed to go with our women but their chicks cancelled on them and mine refused to take a hint. It didn't affect anything. I still wound up getting totaled and acting like an inebriated buffoon for the better part of the trip but still, it would have been sheer madness had it been just the boys. Having said that, the first day we landed at our resort (editor's note; do not go to the Villa Cuba resort, it was a slum) we unpacked our belongings and made our way to the bar.
 
The bar by the pool seemed like the place to be when we got downstairs. There were people all over the place having drinks, swimming, tanning topless which in some cases was simply horrifying, while others played water sports. We got to the bar, slipped the Cuban a tip and ordered some drinks. It took longer than necessary to explain to the local that we wanted dark rum, not white but he eventually caught on, babbled something unintelligible, laughed and fetched us our drinks. We strolled around the resort, checked out the beach and played chess on an oversized chess board, and then we made crude sexual references with the pieces. After an hour or so, we sat back around the pool and flipped on the excessive drinking switch. We basically wanted to sample every drink on the menu so that we could find the one that would be our poison for the week. We found the bastard. It was called "The Villa Cuba" and I have no fucking clue what was in it. It was a sexy blue mixed with green and powerful, that was all that mattered.
 
So we started swilling and mingling with other people around the bar. There were a bunch of Canadians so we pretty much just stuck with them and talked about hockey, beavers, igloos and how to thaw out your balls during the unforgiving winters. After a while, I was drunk. Not fucked in half drunk but tipsy enough to realize that I was speaking louder than necessary, slurring a little bit and laughing at things that weren't funny. Also, I had been fighting off MJK who was trying to get me to go back to the room to fool around. I kept refusing because I wanted to make sure she understood I was in control of what I was doing for the next week, not her. Yeah that's right, I am a model boyfriend. But, as any man would have done, I caved and went back up to the room for 3, maybe 4 minutes of unparalleled pleasure followed by hours of uncontrollable weeping. That's not true, I was joking! ....Yeah, so anyway, we were gone for about an hour while BrownTown and The Ukraine kept up a torrid drinking pace.
 
When I got back down BrownTown had that look in his eye I had seen too many times before. He was wasted and didn't give a fuck who knew, which he repeated for longer than I care to admit. I had sobered up a bit and wasn't all too pleased that my friends were piss drunk and I wasn't. That meant I had to start taking Tequila shots. BrownTown hates Tequila which was one reason why I picked them. He was destroyed and it was barely 10pm. But that couldn't stop him. He opted for shots of rum, which were fucking nasty. So the three of us pounded down shots and drinks and more shots with more drinks while MJK was satisfied drinking some strawberry banana stupidity. After an hour or so, I had fallen right back into a pretty strong drunken state. MJK and The Ukraine had had enough and went back to their seperate rooms leaving me and BrownTown alone, which was just such a poor poor decision on their part.
 
Once completely unsupervised, BrownTown and I started hammering drinks hard. We met some Quebecer and this Whore (also from Quebec) that was hanging around him and shot the shit with them for awhile. During the conversation, I don't know how, BrownTown ended up off his chair and in the pool fully clothed. He had his brother’s camera in his pocket which was now successfully destroyed. He got out of the pool with great difficulty and sat back down with us. At 12am the bar shut down and the disco opened. We were too fucked to go dancing so we followed the Quebecer and the Whore back to his condo near the beach. It was a nice place, he gave us a drink then we promptly got weirded out. He went away to change or whatever and the Whore pretty much propositioned both of us. She leaned over and kissed my lips prompting BrownTown to immediately get up and leave. I quickly followed. She was incredibly trashy and even in our piss drunk state, there was no realistic way of going through anything that rodent was thinking.
 
Once we were out of the condo, we zig zagged around the resort, literally. Browntown tumbled into some bushes, I was falling on the paths while people laughed at us from various spots in the resort. We had run out of cigarettes, there was no booze available except at the disco, I had lost my sunglasses and BrownTown his wallet. It was nearly 3 am which was confusing since we figured we'd been on the loose for only an hour. At this point BrownTown remembered the Ukraine had cigarettes in his room. We stumbled up, took a pack and made our way back to the beach. On our way down we discovered a snack bar. They refused to sell us any booze but they did give us ham and cheese sandwiches, which were delicious. I managed to bribe one of the locals to get me a glass of straight rum for 3 American dollars and a cigarette. Then I blacked out.
 
I woke up naked in my room the next morning, wondering what in the hell happened. BrownTown was of little help and I only began piecing the story together later on in the day. Turns out after my glass of rum the night before, I met some guys from Toronto who were also at the snack bar. Naturally I began harassing them about the Toronto Maple Leafs (an NHL hockey team, one of Montreal's biggest rivals). Being drunk, obnoxious and crude I painted verbal pictures of their favorite players engaging in homosexual exploits in the locker room and showers respectively. I literally stood next to four guys and told them their heroes drilled each other in the ass and didn't have the decency to give each other reach arounds. So now I knew why the large group of young Torontonians were giving me aggressive looks as I walked.
 
The other thing that was troubling were the amount of people who seemed to know me. Where in the fuck did I meet these people? Every corner I turned someone would say hello to me or ask me something relatively personal that I would've had to have told them. It was confusing to say the least and MJK was asking who each and every one of them were. She wasn't happy about the girls who said what's up to me but I was too confused to care. Anyways, we sat down to eat at the restaurant when the waiter came and started speaking Italian to me. What the fuck? Then he started laughing about something, I couldn't understand what, then he started pointing at BrownTown. I was about to ask what was going on when he stopped and asked me in English how drunk I was last night.
 
Super. As it turns out he was the guy who hooked up the rum for us at the snack bar. He made our ham and cheese sandwiches and patiently watched as we stumbled around dancing with no one and everyone at the same time. He made sure we (me in particular) didn't get our asses kicked by the Toronto people, who according to him were many more than 3 or 4 and he put up with me talking Italian gibberish to anyone who'd listen. Basically, he was our Cuban guardian angel for the night and up until that moment, I had no clue he existed. I thanked him by giving him a tip and assuring him I'd be back at the snack bar every 3 am for a night cap of rum. He agreed and a long lasting friendship was born...for 6 days until I had to leave for Canada.