Too Old For the Hamptons?

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Freshman year of college: a time to experiment, drink everything in sight, dance like a madman/woman, and party till dawn.

Hampton Bays: A place to experiment, drink everything in sight, dance like a madman/woman, and party till....Monday.

Some might call me a bore, a loser, a homebody, or just an "80 year old woman" (to which I am often referred, but the Hamptons are simply not a place for me. At least I'll say, Hampton Bays is not a place for me. My friend refers to this area as "fratastic" and I have to agree with her. She warned me the last time I went and this time has proved to be no different.

It's not that I didn't have a good time. Fun is what you make of it. I really did enjoy myself. Almost everyone in the house is very kind, and I especially like the guys; it is rare to find such considerate and funny human beings.

It started out ok. There was an ominous, thick fog which covered everything, bringing the temperature down, much to my dismay. We sat on the beach for a while before going back to the house (which will be shared by over 20 people this summer). Being the first weekend, it was clean, which made me very happy. I don't like residing in dirty spaces.

I knew that these guys were late partiers, so I took a 3 hour nap to prepare. After waking up I showered and got ready. It was about 8pm when I finally went down to join the crowd. Nothing really started to get going until 10pm. Before I knew it I was surrounded with beer pong, flip cup, and a newer "dance" flip cup. I don't enjoy drinking games. I'm not a big fan of beer. I'm especially not a big fan of binge drinking mass amounts of beer. I was speaking to a girl who had a share in the house who was explaining to me why she enjoyed drinking games. She said, "Beers are hard to drink so I like drinking games because it enables me to drink 3 or 4 beers in an hour without realizing it." Wait, you want to drink 3 or 4 beers an hour? Don't you feel bloated and disgusting? I clutched my absolute soda and stayed away from the crazy beer-guzzling which surrounded me.

12pm rolled around and everyone started calling cabs. At 12:30pm people started piling into cabs. At this point people are pretty drunk. Beer has been spilled, girls have argued with each other, and bruises have collected on those who have drunkenly fallen over. In the back of a cab a girl was giving a guy a hand job (ironically, this was the same guy she had slept with the night before. Did I mention they had just met that night?).

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the bar. The line was wrapped around the building and hardly moving. I had to pee pretty bad but the porta-potties were backed up and please, I'm not that desperate. After about 45 minutes of waiting we finally reached the front. $20 to get in. Gag. That's all of my cash.

I waited in line to go to the bathroom and K took my ATM card to get out more cash for the cab back. $10 ATM fee. Shit!

After roughly 20 minutes of waiting in the bathroom line I searched for K for another 20 minutes. People were spilling beer on me, bumping into me, and stepping on my toes. All around me people were taking bottom-shelf shots and screaming like animals. There was barely any room to move and I had had enough. I wanted out. NOW!

After another $10 ATM fee, I was on the street looking for a cab. Apparently cab drivers won't take groups smaller than 8. What?? I was waiting on the street for 30 minutes before I finally convinced a driver to take me home.

"I've been standing out here forever, I'm by myself, what am I supposed to do?"

"I can't take less than 8, it's an 8 person cab."

"How much is it gonna cost to take one?"

Eighty dollars. I can't say I don't feel incredibly guilty for spending this money. But what other choices were there? I'll earn it back. But it definitely sucks.

I got to the house early at 3am and went right to sleep. Everyone else stumbled home around 4:30am and 5am and ate everything in sight. Of course, the house is only stocked with junk food like chips and boxed cookies. The next morning there were crumbs everywhere. Beer had been spilled on almost every surface of the once-clean home, and I was out a significant amount of money.

Good news is the sun was shining and K and I were able to lay out for a bit and go for a walk while the other partiers began drinking and playing beer pong at 10am. She told me she felt too old to be there too and we went home that evening. I don't know what she'll do with her summer share. Knowing her, she'll be fine and continue to enjoy herself.

My idea of a vacation isn't drinking for 20 hours of the day. I don't want to eat junk food, and be hung over, and stay out until 5 in the morning. I don't want to make my weekend goals to get as drunk as possible and to hook up with whoever is willing. I don't want to go back to work feeling even more exhausted than I did the week before. I don't want to drink a 5 Hour Energy just to be able to stay awake.

My ideal Hamptons weekend? I'd like to rent a cozy place with a small group of friends. Go for walks, lay on the beach, poke in the town shops. Maybe go out for a nice meal or cook something healthy. Have a bottle of wine. And just relax. Now THAT'S a vacation.

Am I alone on this?


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