Ultra Part 3

So Chemical Brothers turned out to be ridiculous. The lights were seizure-inducing. I don't know what people who were on drugs were doing with themselves and MM and AD couldn't tell me, since the ecstasy they had purchased from a stranger turned out to be speed (surprise!). The brothers joined us for the set--going with the It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia theme, we'll call them Mac and Charlie Kelly. Afterwards we stumbled with the masses through the gates of Ultra. I was covered in dirt, sweaty and barely able to stand but I had had an amazing time. We walked with the boys to the parking garage where there car was parked so they could grab a bottle of booze before we headed to a bar in South Beach. On the way there we walked past McPoyle and co.'s hotel and saw a few of their crew standing out front. We rushed quickly past and somehow eluded them. Once inside the garage I started to feel like shit. I hadn't had anything to drink all day to avoid the hellish porta-potties and dehydration was fast ensuing. I needed a bathroom stat. To avoid embarrassment, AD told the boys I was going to puke while I ran around like a mouse in a maze, trying to find my way out of the parking garage. I ended up literally running into a hotel lobby to use the bathroom. Terrible. When I emerged I still felt pretty shitty (baha) but I knew I had to man up so we hopped in a cab to South Beach. The extrememly rude Cuban cabbie blasted Pitbull (my new fave song) the entire time we were in the cab. We made it to the bar they had in mind but it was closed. We walked what felt like 3 miles down the strip to go to a classy place called Wet Willies, where they serve every variety of frozen daquiri one can imagine. I drank water. After, I thought the night was over, but it was only just beginning. I thought Charlie Kelly was kidding when he suggested we go to one of the hotel bar's pool parties. It turned out to be more of a joke when they actually let us in--5 disgusting, dirt-covered people--2 on speed, 1 on E (Mac), 1 wildly dehydrated, and the ringleader Charlie Kelly leading us past the bouncers. There we were--the most underdressed people in the place, but why let it bother us. We headed straight for the dancefloor and pushed our way in the middle of done-up girls in cocktail dresses and heels and the guys surrounding them. So my theory holds true--nights that are unexpected or when you look terrible usually turn out to be the best. We danced and by this point I was healthy enough to have a couple drinks. AD had had more than a couple and kept yelling "I want his denim chicken in my denim chicken!" in regards to Charlie Kelly. WHAT a metaphor. At roughly 5:30 in the morning we decided it was time to leave. But we were going out with a bang--Charlie Kelly had a plan, to dive into the pool in the middle of the place, which was a faux-pas. He quickly took off his shoes and shirt, emptied his pockets, handed everything to Mac (I have never seen anyone's pupils so large btw) and before anyone could stop him dove off the bridge into the water. It was surprisingly anti-climactic. Instead of being escorted out by bouncers, when he emerged he simply walked out with us trailing behind. On to our next mission--find a cab. Fail. We wandered around South Beach for an hour with no luck. Finally the boys decided that instead of deal with it they were getting us a hotel for 6 hours. Because that's reasonable. I was immediately sketched out but what could I do? It turned out to be awesome--it was called the Pelican and it was so Miami. All the rooms had different themes, for example ours was 70's and the boys' was wonder woman. It was tiny and had a rooftop with a view of the ocean (and an empty hottub). The girls and I discovered this on our exploration--the boys had already passed out. By the time we returned to our room it was 7AM and we were worn out. We squeezed into the bed for our 5 hours of sleep. To be continued....