The Daily Tar Heel

Serving the students and the University community since 1893

Saturday February 4th

Great Escapes - Panama City, Florida

Unfortunately these goals came at a price: being subjected to catcalls and enduring wet T-shirt contests.

I knew Spring Break would be a little wild and crazy, but no more than I had witnessed at Myrtle Beach during Senior Beach Week. In Florida, there were only more beads, Confederate flags and boobs.

The Queen Bees never showed our goodies for some beads, but my friend and her friends from school managed to find a better use for their tas, entering wet T-shirt contests and flashing bartenders for drinks.

They are some really cool girls, and even as we cheered them on during the contests, I couldn't help but think how degrading it was for women. But then again, my friend was getting me free drinks, so I didn't complain.

Our sextet enjoys having some drinks and dancing but not enough to spend a lot to get into a club. That took Spinnakers and La Villa out of our places-to-go list, but we found a nice, less expensive club.

Latitudes was a fun club with a huge bar and plenty of room to dance, either inside or outside on the deck that overlooked the gulf. Underage kids were allowed in for $5 and indulged rigorously thanks to lax carding habits and a lack of ageism.

Our time there was great, but so was the walk back with my friend Stephanie. We had a few drinks, and when she tried to smuggle one out in her pants, Steph fell and found herself sprawled out on the wooden steps of the club.

As she hobbled back to the motel with me, she also managed to fall multiple times because I kept making her laugh. Every time she'd end up on the ground, we'd draw a crowd of spectators, especially when she tried to go to the motel next door.

To be honest, time spent laying out on the beach, the drive down and hanging out in the motel were the highlights of the trip.

We laughed about past trips as we smoked and watched the planes with ads trailing fly above us on the beach. The drive seemed short as we joked around on the walkie talkies and laughed every time someone said "breaker breaker."

In our rooms, new jokes abounded as we bonded over our drinks and talked to the neighbors. You couldn't walk out on the balcony without talking to someone standing on theirs.

Our male neighbors from Missouri frequented our room to hang out, and Rick's antics grated on my nerves as he managed to pick up every bra he saw, probably because every bra he picked up was mine. Also, Jake wore out his welcome when he wouldn't take a hint and leave.

Sadly enough, these guys were the cream of the crop we met down there.

Despite the sometime skank quality that permeated Panama City Beach, I had a blast hanging out with my friends, getting tan and partying.

Plus, all the flashing gave us a new joke, yelling, "Tits tits tits" on our walkie talkies as we drove home.

Hopefully wherever we go next year, that phrase won't be shouted everywhere we turn and the atmosphere will compliment our laid-back style. But if you enjoy debauchery, PCB is the place to be.

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