These Things Happen to Collar-Poppers

It's one of those days where I could use a laugh, as I'm sure is the case for many of you. So I got a little nostalgic for Cabo San Lucas.

During my sophmore and junior spring breaks (lo, these many years ago), I was fortunate enough to go to the American Leadership Academy, aka Cabo Alpha, aka Fully-Comped Week in Paradise. A rather successful alumnus of Phi Psi hosted about 150 undergrads a week in a hotel on the beach, which he purchased and refurbished for the explicit purpose of running leadership academies. His home, or rather his compound, was just down the road, next to Sammy Hagar's compound.

Every night, we would go downtown and drink unholy amounts of beer. Every morning, we would wake up in the hotel, drag ourselves to the seminar room, and nurse hangovers while being lectured on everything from "corporate management" to "how to get into med school" (it seems that in both cases, it is best to know people). The chief negotiator for Anheuser-Busch, whose lecture cost is in the 10s of thousands, taught us how to negotiate.

I could go on about the inherent awesomeness of Cabo. About the kayaking and the volleyball and the endless supply of beer and the weather and the womens. The Bulldogs and the ATVs and the networking and the Substitute Pimp. The list goes on, although most of it would consist of inside jokes (El Duque!). There is one specific story, however, that is worth telling.

The story is about a good friend of mine... let's call him Sketchy, to protect his identity. Sketchy's a good friend, a charismatic guy without a shy bone in his body. It was, then, no surprise when Sketchy made a friend...

What was surprising was that this happened, not five minutes later...

While a picture is worth a thousand words, a video would've been much better. Sketchy's friend and her new friend weren't just kissing, they were making out so violently as to knock over furniture. I'm so glad Patrick was there to capture this Kodak moment.