I turned 31 this week and it was fine, I don't have any real profound thoughts. I wasn't going to do a big social media post but I stumbled onto a treasure trove of photos from my birthday 10 years ago and figured since this is largely a comedy site, I'll share with you the tale of my 21st birthday. Because I mean, Jesus look at that fucking stud. White jacket, giant fake diamonds, singing an undisclosed 90's hit at a karaoke bar inside an Italian club? You deserve this.
***
They told me not to start drinking at noon, but it was the first day after all. Not only was it our first day inside Europe, the first day of a six month vacation, no it was also my 21st birthday.
Not that any of that mattered; although I desperately wanted the clerk at the wine shop to ask me for my ID, he merely shrugged when I exclaimed that it was my 21st birthday. I walked back to my hotel room with 12 bottles of red wine and heroically stormed into the lobby of the hotel we would be occupying for the first night. As I slammed the case of wine down in the common area and started enthusiastically passing bottles out to my friends like a drunken Robin Hood I saw the color drain from my program director's face.
While some students came to Italy seeking education or culture, perhaps a fresh perspective, she could tell that these frat guys from Indiana were here with one mission: to fuck shit up.
While most of the students had saved for years from summer jobs with the dream of studying abroad some day, we had conspired in November with twenty IU kids over a $75 bottle of Grey Goose in a corner booth at Kilroy's. 13 girls, seven guys, we would throw parties, travel, maybe fall in love. It would be fucking lit.
I asked the program director for a bottle opener to which she politely declined and then watched in horror as i stabbed the cork into the bottle with a ball point pen.
With much trepidation she handed us the keys to our flat.
"I've secured you a 10 bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. You're the only residential unit in the building, the rest are law firms."
I realize her implication was that this was a NICE PLACE and was to be treated with respect, but what I heard was that this woman had just given us our own frat house in Italy and that the neighbors would leave for the weekend every Friday at five.
I remember by the time our 'orientation' begun I had already finished a bottle of wine. I vaguely remember our administrators saying things like 'don't treat this like a playground.' 'You're here to learn.' You know a bunch of stuff that I would never take to heart. I was already busy getting numbers from all the east coast chicks in my pre-paid burner flip phone, a phone I would lose that night and never replace.
A cocktail hour followed the orientation, I put something smart ass on my name tag like 'frat guy #2' because at 21 you think that kinda shit is hilarious. It became abundantly clear that our program was about 90% female and when I walked to the bar and ordered a triple vodka tonic the weary Italian bartender cautioned me that if I kept up my current pace, I wouldn't make it out.
News of our presence quickly spread through the hotel.
"You're one of the IU guys?"
Our program directors strongly discouraged us from hitting the town that night. We had immigration meetings in the morning followed by a tour of the city. Furthermore we were expressly forbidden from having any company in our rooms that evening.
I invited every girl in sight to a pregame in room 304.
In the hotel lobby I quickly did a Yelp search for the worst club in Florence, or a club that others perceived to be awful, but a place I would love.
"Music so loud you go deaf."
"Full of nothing but study abroad kids looking to black out."
"Everyone here is on drugs."
YAB...YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.
Let's fucking go.
All my college friends were there as well as a few other rebels that we convinced to hit the town with us. It was a 15 minute walk, so we used the lack of Italian open container law to keep pregaming on the way to the bar. By the time we got there I imagine I was three bottles deep.
We saw some more IU friends drinking at a bar next to Florence's famous Duomo that was named JJ Cathedral at the time. I think I had 4 to 5 Jager Bomb shots at this point and crew our crowd to a critical mass. Sure it kinda sucked that I wasn't going to get the true Indiana birthday thing, no shot book, no paddle, I couldn't make everyone wear pink, but if you're going to have your birthday anywhere else in the world, this wasn't too bad.
I remember realizing as we finally pulled up to the club that I wasn't in great shape. I had been drinking for entirely too long and had already called multiple women by the wrong name. But once I got to the dance floor I figured I would be fine.
I approached a large African bouncer who asked if I thought I was ok to come in.
"Of course I am," I thought. I mean I was probably only the equivalent of 25 drinks deep.
"It's his 21st birthday," one of my friends offered from the back, "We'll take care of him."
He nodded and stepped aside.
Now the thing is...if I had EVER been to this bar before, the following sequence may have never happened.
But I had not been to this bar.
I had not been to this country.
I had not been to this continent.
So I certainly didn't know that at this particular bar you step in the entrance and proceed to walk down 25 steps.
So I took one step in and proceeded to fall down 25 steps.
The concerned bouncer rushed me into the coat room to check my vitals..I was fine, he then gave me a breathalyzer and I blew a .3 at which point Steve (pictured above with his wife!!!!) was forced to drag me up 25 stairs and then carry me home.
He threw me in my hotel room and apparently I dead bolted the door so when my friend Ryan got home, he was locked out which forced him to accidentally try to kick down a strangers door.
Needless to say when the program directors were called to deal with the situation they were not pleased. And this is how I was almost sent home on the first day of abroad.
Fortunately for us, our parents had all paid in advance and half of them were lawyers so we were given one more chance.
And thank God for that or I might have never gone to Germany, Austria, England, Ireland, France, Switzerland, Monaco, Belgium, Greece, Vatican, Netherlands, Spain.
I wouldn't have fallen in a canal in Venice, woken up in an ambulance, sleepwalked through Barcelona, skied the Swiss Alps, spent way too long in Amsterdam or of course getting lost on a train in France.
No fortunately that first night in Italy turned out to be the worst night, but the next night...well I went to a Zara, bought that white coat and took the picture above...setting up the most preposterous 12 month run of my life. I cherish every person and every memory of that trip and of the last 10 years because my God, it's all been so much fun.
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