I was 22 years old at the time, and a friend invited me on a trip to San Diego for the 4th of July. I didn’t know his group of friends very well, but I had no other plans, so I accepted. One of his friends offers to drive us all to Pacific Beach a couple of days beforehand. My friend cancels last minute but insists that I should still go with his friends. I can get along well enough with most folks, so I figure this could be a good opportunity to meet some new people.
Two hours into the drive I realize my mistake. I won’t get into too much detail, but I can tell this is my buddy’s “let’s get fucked up” crew. I enjoy a drink as much as the next guy, but I also prefer to remember the fun I have. These guys prefer to brag about not remembering. I know the Pacific Beach area pretty well, so I decide that I’ll just split off from the crew whenever I want to do my own thing. They don’t mind, I’m paying for my share of the hotel and gas.