I headed to the caribbean for a trip with 5 friends and and one of the friend's sister drove us to the airport. My friend is SUPER protective of his sister and his sister was was wearing skin tight jeans when she drove us. I immediately started to raz him on the plane how nice her butt looked and it continued until we got to our destination. We ended up going to a restaurant/bar almost immediately after we landed and I would not let up on how great her ass looked. Within 90 minutes of our plane hitting the tarmac I was hammered. Shots, shots, more shots and margaritas. He asked me to stop politely at least 10x but I continued and the drunker I got, the worse I was bugging him. I was being super loud and obnoxious and I was bothering all of the people in the restaurant and there were families around. He finally snapped and grabbed me with both hands around the throat and I fell backwards and he jumped on top of me. All I could think to do was to rip his shirt off, exposing his "hairy as a beast" dad bod to the rest of the bar. By the way it was maybe 7:30pm at the latest. Friends eventually broke it up and he wasn't really even that mad. Security brought us to the bar and gave us each a shot and tried to smooth things out but in my drunken stupor I got mad at all of my friends and left the bar.
Leaving the bar is when it went from funny to scary. I guess peeing on the street in most countries down south is a very big no-no. I got hauled into the back of a police car with three police officers in it (two in the front, one in the back). This is where the story gets a bit wonky but I have enough memories to piece together what happened. They thought I was high on drugs because I was so messed up. They were going through my pockets and I remember them asking me "where the cocaine was". They drove away with me and I ended up having the police take my cell phone and about $300 US. They also dropped me off really far away from the hotel. That walk seemed like a 5 hour walk. I eventually made it back to my hotel. Somehow security got me into my room and when I got into the room. I threw up everywhere, on one of the beds, the floor, in the bathroom.
I have good friends. After my friends came back from the bar, the guy who I had fought with earlier (and my roommate for the trip), came and cleaned up everything as much as he could, got me changed and gave me the blankets off of his bed. Totally beyond what you would expect anyone to do for a drunken idiot like me.
I was hung over for two days and it ruined my trip. I didn't have another drink the entire week and sheepishly spent the rest of the time trying to make it up to my friend. On top of it, I think I may have been hit by a billy club or something across the backs of my legs. I had a massive welt across both legs that turned into a super dark bruise a few days later.
Lesson learned, don't be so naive to think that you are "still in Kansas" when you go to a foreign country.