Lanzarote is a beautiful island somewhere off the coast of Africa. It's also where I had one of the hardest parties of my life.
This February me and my friend decided to go to Lanzarote and surf for a week. He's really good, and I'd never touched a surfboard before (the opportunities are scarce in Finland), but I was really excited to go.
When we got there, I immediately rented a surfboard for myself and hit the waves. I never knew the ocean is so salty, but I got used to it after a few hours. Anyway, it was horrible, I probably spent more time rolling along the sea-floor than on the surfboard. After such a hard day of surfing, we decided it's time to party. We ate a nice meal at the local restaurant, dressed well and took the bus to Puerte Del Carmen.
It turned out that it was some sort of a carnival night, the whole island was there wearing awesome (and not so awesome) costumes and partying.. Looks like we picked the right night to go out! We went straight to a nice looking bar and got to drinking. We did some bar-hopping during the night, and asked the locals what the best club in town was. The answer was always the same, but the place wasn't open yet (and I forget the name.. it was a number) so we went to a bar that offered pipe-tobacco, though I really don't know what it was we were smoking.
Finally the "best club" opened, and we headed straight in. My friend is Colombian and loves tequila, so we started doing shots. But get this - instead of actual shots, the bargirl poured us half a highball glass each. It was two or three mouthfuls to get the whole "shot" down. We didn't mind, of course, and kept ordering more. After a few tequilas my memory cuts off and all I remember is my friend - at some point during the night - punching me in the mouth and shouting "Why are you being such a faggot?" and I was like "Why are you hitting me man??". And then I woke up in my bed and it was morning.
I felt my lip.. sure enough it was swollen like a motherfucker. Then I checked my clothes. Blood on my shirt and t-shirt.. weird light-blue powder on every article of clothing.. missing my wallet, though my debit-card was in my breast pocket. I woke up my friend and asked him what the hell happened last night.
Apparently after a few tequila shots I had "gone crazy" with all the Spanish hotties around, and started "attacking" them (I'm not sure what I actually did, but I think it included close and unwanted physical contact). The doormen had told my friend to get me under control or they'd throw us both out. So my friend decided to start punching me all over so I'd come back to reality. He told me I calmed down a bit and then we left the club.
Once outside, I passed out in front of the door. This, coupled with the fact that there were so many fights inside (not sure how many started by me) led to the club being closed a few hours early. When I was woken up, we started looking for a taxi. He told me I kept throwing my wallet and phone away and he had to pick them up numerous times. We finally got into a taxi. On the way home, I got the bright idea to jump off the taxi while it was going at about 120km/h. While I was fumbling with the door the driver realised what I was planning and slammed the brakes. Ouch..
I must've dropped my wallet in the taxi, because my friend tells me I took it out to pay. Anyway, we were finally home and went to bed. The next day, and for the rest of the trip my friend was extremely sorry about having punched me, but I know I had it coming so I wasn't mad. We're still very good friends. I told everybody at home that I got hit in the face by a surfboard.