Saturday, September 16, 2017
If you’re wondering where Friday went, take it up with the travel gods. After getting some decent sleep on our 16 hour flight to Dubai, I was up bright and early at 4 am. Jorgie and I were down in the gym by 6 am, mainly because we had nothing better to do. We then headed down to breakfast bright and early where we pretty much had our run of the place. The breakfast buffet is so big that the waiter took us on a little tour when we told him it was our first morning at the hotel. As he passed by the gelato station (yes, a fucking ice cream shop in the middle of the buffet) he said “…and this is for the children”. Chocolate ice cream at breakfast should be reward for good behavior and I have yet to see any children here exhibit that. I managed to skip breakfast dessert day one, but I doubt day two will be as successful. After an aggressive amount of food before 9 am, we headed out to the private stretch of beach commanded by our resort complex, which sits right at the base of the Burj al Arab. It’s pretty fucking epic. The waters of the Persian Gulf here are as flat ass glass and feel like luke-warm bath water. We could have easily lazed the day away here, but we figure we’ll have plenty of time for that on the second leg of our journey in the Maldives. Our plan for today – party at a beach club. We would have gladly stayed put if we knew what an epic FAIL we were in for.
Let me preface this by telling you that the only way I got through the three hours spent at Zero Gravity Beach Hell…I mean Beach Club…was by reminding myself that it will make for a great blog. The things I do to entertain you ass holes. Our original plan was to go to a different beach club, but a friend of Steph’s recommended that we go to Zero Gravity instead, so despite my better judgement I switched plans. In Dubai, the weekends are Friday and Saturday, so today was basically the U.S. equivalent of a Sunday funday party, and included all you can eat and all you can drink for five hours for about fifty bucks. Sounds awesome, right? Yeah, that’s what we thought too. Remember what they say about things that sound too good to be true? We showed up shortly after noon, when the open bar started, and there was already a line of people out the door. Our first hint should have been that you can’t actually see the beach club from the entrance. Had we been able to catch a glimpse of the scene before handing over our money, we would have ran far and ran fast. The beach club itself is nice – big pool, tons of day beds (not that we had one since they cost thousands of dollars) and lots of space to chill and move around. On any other day it probably would have been perfectly adequate. The scene today looked very similar to a Vegas pool party – if the Excalibur had a pool party and you were somehow unlucky enough to be a part of it. The desperation in the air was palpable. If you are a girl with any combination of : cheap hair extensions, double fake eyelashes, and a collection of Kylie Jenner lip kits, this is the place for you. If you are a guy with multiple tribal tattoos and a penchant for really easy girls, make yourself right at home. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging. I’m just trying to paint you all an accurate picture. Ten years ago, I probably would have been crowned queen of this little Dubai frat party by the sea. However, in my 30s, it took me about four seconds to realize that we were in way over our heads. Our visions of lounging by a pool sipping champagne surrounded by beautiful people quickly vanished. Those dreams were instead replaced by chugging flavored vodka sodas in a piss filled pool surrounded by millennials dry humping each other after thirty seconds of exchanging pleasantries.
I’m gonna go ahead and read your mind and just answer your questions before you ask. Why were we in the pool, you ask? Because there was no where left to sit that didn’t cost about $1000. And I’d rather slit my wrists then give this place more of my hard earned money. Why were we drinking flavored vodka, you ask? Because they only had flavored fucking vodka. Strawberry or blueberry Stoli, to be exact. Unless you are a 19 year old girl screaming “whooooo shots!” in your dorm room, there is zero reason to have flavored vodka. No exceptions. The second we walked in I knew our only hope for a marginally good time was to get drunk. Like, completely bombed. So we ordered three vodka sodas and, to our horror, wound up with strawberry vodka. On the second drink we requested unflavored vodka, at which point the bartender dropped the bomb that there was none. The only thing worse than strawberry vodka is blueberry vodka. Which we wound up with on drink #3. Trust me. Don’t do the blueberry. Ever. I felt like Veruca Salt with a drinking problem. Eventually the bartender finally gave in and started pouring us doubles, either because he felt bad for us or because he was sick of seeing us. I’ll take it either way.
The only thing that got us through our few hours at Zero Gravity was the people watching. There was the chick with the most aggressive version of a high wasted bikini I have ever seen. It basically looked like someone had just given her a major wedgie at all times – and from both sides. The only camel toe I want to see is on my desert tour tomorrow, thank you very much. There was a girl in the pool that we just referred to as “drunk girl”. If I had to guess I would say she was mid brown-out when we first saw her latch on to a group of guys and try to make out with each one as they passed her off from one dude to the next. I could tell she was trying to be in her twenties but her awful skin gave away the fact that she was trying to bat way below her age bracket. I can’t tell you which guy actually ended up making out with her. Not because I don’t remember, but because there was more than one. There were also the awkward old people way past their prime that had no business being at that party. No, I’m not talking about us, although I’ll admit we probably fall into that same category. There were even OLDER people. I’m talking about women so old they would need a Space Needle filled with Botox to pass for forty. The rest of the crowd consisted mostly of young and skanky Euros just trying to get drunk and laid. I know its hard to buy alcohol in Dubai, so I’m thinking the younger crowd must just really take advantage of anything with the words “open bar”. We spent about two and a half hours there before we decided to throw in the towel and let the kids have their fun in a judgement free environment. We took our old asses home and almost cried with joy upon return to our fancy hotel. This will teach me to ever forgo a Nikki Beach again. Not all pool parties are created equal, my friends, especially in Dubai.
The hotel security guard stopped us to question if we were actually staying in the hotel. We told him our room number and he looked up our names on his list. He demanded to speak with Mr. Rory Boston, and was completely baffled when I tried to explain that I am Mr. Rory Boston. This is way more fun in Spanish speaking countries when I can refer to myself as “Senor Boston” in a funny Mexican accent. I went to reach for my drivers license to prove my identity and gender when I realized I left my fucking license at Zero Gravity Beach Hell. I had to put it down as a deposit for a locker. I was so excited to get the hell out of there, I left without getting it back. Fuck me. So back Steph and I went in a for a quick round trip all the way back to that fresh slice of Arabian hell. I contemplated just leaving it there, but the only thing more frightening than that beach party is the California DMV.
We spent the rest of the afternoon napping in air conditioned heaven. Two and a half hours of open bar apparently makes for three sleepy old ladies. We contemplated sleeping straight through the night, but we had dinner reservations at a highly rated Indian Restaurant in a neighboring hotel. We pulled ourselves together and caught a little golf cart over to the Jumeirah Beach Hotel. They have a glass elevator that looks like something Willy Wonka would install in studio 54, so the craziest part of our night was riding it up and down. Our meal was awesome. And then we went to bed.
Tomorrow, we are kicking it old school Dubai with the souks and a desert dune buggy safari.
This Bitch Be Trippin 
Excited for pics of the dune buggies! And Walter sends condolences for the flavored vodka 😦
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