The Vacation That Killed My Vibe (And All of My Friends)

When I was 19 years old, I went to Cancun, Mexico for spring break with eight of my girlfriends. They all flew together and I trailed them like toilet paper on a shoe because I was broke and the cheaper flights got in later.

I remember panicking as the plane descended into the airport. What if I’m the only person on the hotel shuttle? What if the driver decides to take me to an abandoned parking garage and cut me up into small cubes.

After being dropped off at the resort without so much as a single flesh wound, I booked it to the beach where my friends had been all morning. I waved to the group frantically as I dragged my roller suitcase through the scorching hot sand.

I needed them to know right away that a.) I had not been murdered and b.) I was committed to having fun above all else. Which is why I did not put on sunscreen and how I subsequently burned over 80% of my body.

Unwanted sexual attention would not be an issue for me on this trip. I was Freddy Krueger in a bikini.

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When women travel as a pack, we take on the energy of the most attractive people in our group. I certainly wasn’t getting any action on this vacation, but guys didn’t seem to mind talking to us just because I looked like a scab. My friends…