Hamptons For the MD Weekend

It's almost funny how you can spend so much time complaining about things, once you get used to them. And yet, when you end up in a pandemic and sheltering-in-place, you yearn for the things you hardly remember being upset over. I remember all too clearly, the first time I ever went to "The Hamptons". It was for a huge Memorial Day Weekend celebration with a large group that I barely see out anymore. But I never forgot my first trip.

I took the jitney out for my first time and it was like a bus ride with many snacks, lots of outlets for charging. For those of you who know the jitney, my first ever ride was on the "Ambassador". Rightfully so, I expected my whole trip to be just as nice. The woman seated next to me was in real estate and the little bit that we spoke, I told her of my ambitions at the time of being in real estate as well. That didn't last long at all.. but it's always been a small possibility.

When I arrived, I took an Uber from the East Hampton drop off spot to the house. Arriving at the house, I walked up with my bags in hand, and tried to figure out exactly how to alert everyone I was arriving, since my phone was dead. Someone pulled up behind me and they brought me in with them and their car full of people.

Walking in, it was like a dream come true. I was in a glass house, full of people who liked the same music I liked, partied like I did and everyone was looking to have a great time. It was just a matter of when...

When "the bus" pulled up to the house, I remember the whispers and snivelings of guys from across the room. Everyone had referred to this bus as the "whore bus" because it unloaded many girls in colorful bathing suits who looked like they stepped out of Avenue Nightclub and stripped out of their party dresses to join the party here. Ally and I laughed nervously since we had honestly considered taking that bus when planning our trip.

There was sex in nearly every room of the house, drugs, sex and house music. The party went on for at least two days. Music blasting throughout the house, even at 4 AM. I began to resent the song, "You Little Beauty" by Fisher on a deep, personal level. Most of the girls went back on the bus, and left in a flurry of neon. I didn't like the way the guys spoke on these girls that they'd never know anything about.

I played a lot of tennis in my bikinis and challenged myself to drinking more than I could handle, just because we could. There was no one that could tell us no. Until the landlady showed up, and threatened police and a bad rating on AirBnb. But we were unstoppable. She made a alarming cameos twice. The first time, she was greeted with half-assed apologies and the promise that at least 80 of the guests would be leaving within the hour. Later on, she was greeted with angry slurs and remarks about how she should "go the f**k home".

We went on to party harder for the next day and a half.