Daytona Beach Trip

Back when I was too young to drive, My friends mother drove a bunch of us to Daytona Beach for “spring break”, in a big ass station wagon. We were packed like sardines. It was a long drive, about 15 hours, and we did it in one hop. We were smoking. We arrive, check in, and we were free. The first order of business was to find some beer, and some girls. We were successful. I’ll tell you…I’ll take a girl over a beer any day of the week.

My friend Buford, has a mathematical brain and is good at poker. Damn good. He goes down to a bar and finds a back room poker game, and cleaned up. Won 800 bucks, not bad for a 15 year old. That was some major money back then. Damn , we were now into the liquor and beer. All we wanted was to get lucky with some girls, if you know what I mean. We were not lucky, but we were drunk as bicycles. We were staying on the 2nd floor of a motel, not a hotel, and my buddy Joe threw the fucking TV off the balcony. It was done. Then my “good friends” carved my name into the wall over the bed. Damn! We had to fix that, so we went and bought some putty and white paint. We fixed it as best we could, but you could still recognize my name. The paint didn’t match. I took a knife and scraped another 3X3 foot off the wall, and put some more paint to it. It looked like hell, but I never got caught…couldn’t see my name, and that was all that mattered to me. All in all, it was about a 12 foot by 12 foot spur of the moment remolding job. We picked up what was left of the TV, rigged the wall, and left town. My friend’s mother agreed that was the best thing to do. We had to let her in on it. She was so mad, she wasn’t mad…way past mad. I’m talking really mad. Anyway, she said get your bags and load ‘em up, we need to go…now. Well, we broke for cover and stayed another four or five days in another motel down the road. She made us promise not to throw any more shit off the balcony. As a matter of fact, she ensured we all stayed on the first floor. She was “looking over her shoulder pissed”.

Bottom line: none of us got some of the good thing, but we did have a good time. We still talk and laugh about that trip today. I swear to The Maker, I know some crazy motherfuckers, and I wouldn’t trade any of ‘em for anything. We all say, “you haven’t lived until you’ve thrown a fucking TV off a balcony”.