You get to tell stories about Cancun. I’m on a one night pass from basic and my battle buddy talks me into driving to Schmokin, PA. He’s got acollege buddy there and we end up in the roller rink that turns into a dance hall/ beer stubs on Saturday’s. Decent house band and I start checking out the ladies. Every time I begin to make a move the music goes from top 40 to polka. About the third time this happens, I sit back down on my stool - not noticing the coal minor on my left - and in a loud voice i say, “Whats with all this polka shit?”
my friends tell me that for one brief moment I was completely horizontal and then I hit the floor. Woke up with a deep purple fist outline on the left side of my face and a sudden respect for Weird Al Yankovich.
pretty sure the guy that blacked my eye was someone on same cruise as us. but then again maybe not. i never actually saw who threw the punch.
hell, i don’t even know if it was aimed at me or not.
i just know a whole lot of chaos followed.
the two tallest mexicans i’ve ever seen carried me to the street and suggested i find somewhere else to party.
somewhere between the fist and me being in the street, i ended up with a missing shoe. I’m pretty sure i still had both shoes when the haymaker came flying in.
so hobbled with one shoe down the street to catch the bus back to Playa del Carmen.
then took the dinghy back to the ship.
by then eye was purple and mostly closed with a nice small gash just below the eyebrow.
got home from cruise and had to explain to mom why my eye was busted up and i only had one shoe.
Dad thought it was funny as hell, but was pissed because we couldn’t go eat anywhere nice (me having a shiner and barefoot ruined those plans) and he wasn’t buying me new shoes just because i’m a dumbass getting in fights in Mexico.