Salamanca, Spain

Before we even got to it, Professor Perez had our camp all fired up about Salamanca. It was a city with a bit more than 150,000 people, but he said that Salamanca was Spain’s biggest college town, home to the Universidad de Salamanca--Spain’s oldest university. And that there was even a large international student enrollment, with students coming from all over the world just to attend. Just talking about Salamanca, Professor Perez made our eyes light up like we were going to kiddy land.

The tour busses pulled into our hotel in Salamanca, another nice hotel. But truthfully, we were so excited to check out the town that we snatched our rooms keys, tossed our luggage, and ran out of the hotel as fast as we could. About five minutes later, we found out the best feature about our hotel--its proximity to the Plaza Mayor.

Many cities in Spain had a main square called a Plaza Mayor (my-your). There were like a central meeting place. Friends from other parts of the town would meet up at the square. Have a drink. And follow wherever the day or night would take them. The Plaza Mayor was ideal for carnivals, pep rallies, or civic protests. It was the primary public meeting place that seemed to be the heart of each city. The Plaza Mayor was the spot. And that was the most evident in Salamanca.

The warm summer afternoon had turned into a pleasant early evening as the Crew strolled down from our hotel to the square to jumpstart the night. It was refreshing not having to flag down multiple taxis or divide cab fare between several people. But staying at our hotel in Salamanca, we just had a five-minute walk.

Getting to the Plaza Mayor, we noticed that it was like a small city within a larger one. Naturally, the Plaza Mayor was square shaped. Visibly large enough to hold an entire football field, the Plaza Mayor was enclosed with shops and businesses around the perimeter. It was a valley tucked behind old buildings. Like arteries to the heart, there were several pathways from which to enter and exit the square that would lead you to different streets of the city. But the vibrant energy of Salamanca’s Plaza Mayor is what attracted people to it.
Like an open-air mall, there were students, tourists, couples, and families coming and going from all directions. Patrons were popping in and out of the numerous restaurants. The outdoor cafes were full. There were tapas bars. Jazz bars. Irish pubs. When we arrived, there was even a bar decked out in the stars and stripes of the American flag offering drink specials to celebrate the Fourth of July. Near the center of the plaza, a quartet of costumed street performers--looking like college kids trying to make a few extra bucks--started to serenade the area. The entire square was buzzing with activity. It was noisy. People were laughing. Performers singing. The Plaza Mayor in Salamanca was like a nightly block party.

The atmosphere was so festive and jovial, it felt like you could accidentally step on people’s shoes and strike up friendly conversation. We bumped into some Salamanca college kids who told us that there was this bar just steps outside of the Plaza Mayor called La Chupiteria. They said it was a local favorite. They pointed us in the right direction, and we were on our way.
Now, as we’re cutting through the jovial crowds and meandering through the Salamanca streets, I began to break down and translate the name La Chupiteria in my head. The Spanish word chupitos had been used quite frequently amongst the Crew. Anytime we wanted to get sloppy, someone would throw their hands up, yell “chupiots,” run up to the closest bartender, and return with a round of shots. I also learned that for some Spanish words, the suffix “eria” meant some kind of business or a shop. It was like the suffix “ology” in English--the study of something. You know meteorology is the study of weather. Zoology is the study of animals. And gynecology is the study of…well, you get the idea. In Spanish there was a carneceria, or a meat shop. A dulceria was a candy shop. And walking up to it, La Chupiteria was indeed a shop full of shots.

La Chupiteria was strictly business. You didn’t go there to salsa dance. You didn’t go there to watch soccer. You didn’t go there to eat tapas. You went there solely to get f---ed up. La Chupiteria was just one room with a fully stocked bar in the middle. There were booths, tables, and chair around it as well as a various chalk boards around the walls with just about whatever kind of shot you could image. And there were all cheap. College kid cheap. I’m talking shots for a buck.

The Crew got up to the bar. Gave the bartender our orders. And we all started bombing shots like we were going to war. We were armed with tequila. Blasting purple hooters. Shooting Jamaican ten speeds. And firing away with Jaeger. After that, the night got blurry.
I don’t remember much, but I do remember the Crew almost tripping over each other out of La Chupiteria. Stumbling in and out of several other bars within the city. And I met up with Marisol--which had become routine the past few nights--somewhere in the Salamanca streets. By her overt public displays of affection, it looked like she too had spent some time at La Chupiteria. But together we broke away from our groups of friends. And together we stumbled tipsy hand in hand up and down the Salamanca streets and caroused till dawn.

Spring Break - Rocky Point, Mexico

To begin with, the dance club is a sexually charged atmosphere all by itself. Mix in an exotic beach locale, super cheap drinks, sprinkle in some suggestively explicit lyrics along with thousands of drunk, horny college-aged men and women and you have a gourmet recipe for sexual combustion.

Unless you become a filthy rich celebrity, a professional athlete, or a movie star, other than spring, there are very few opportunities where a guy can hook up with such minimal effort. If you're rich and famous, chicks saute themselves and put their ass on a platter. But the spring break dance club is where the average college guy can hook up like a porn star.

This is what you do. You and your buddies enter a dance club like Rocky Gardens in Rocky Point. Immediately run to the bar. For two reasons. First, it's spring break. You're there to get f--ked up. That goes without saying. But you also have to check the scene. Check out the male competition. Are the guys all juiced up meatheads? What's the girl-to-guy ratio? Is the club a sausagefest? For The Dance Floor Hookup to be effective, you need "numbers and attempts." You want a good number of girls dancing, and you want to make your attempts with them because the objective of The Dance Floor Hookup is to grab a dancing chick for a little beach front frolic.
Girls say they innocently love to dance. I don't buy it. The love to shake their ass. They love to dance provocatively. And they love the ogling attention they get from guys. Go to any dance club and hear Sisqo's "Thong Song" or Juvenile's "Back that Ass Up," and you'll see a bunch of girls gyrating and bouncing up and down like nuns in a cucumber patch.

After letting the drinks settle and the buzz kicks in, work your way to the dance floor. During spring break, you're not looking for quality. It's all quantity. You're not going to marry the girl. You just need a quick chick for a quick fix.
Avoid the girl who knows she's hot--the one who's all dolled up with makeup to the max. Chicks like that take work. You don't have that kind of time. Just like you will never see a three piece suit worn during spring break, you'll never hear a guy ask, "May I have this dance?" Spring break is way too primal for that kind of chivalrous crap. Just inch ever so close to the most liquored up girl in the club. If she quickly sobers up and pushes you away, move on to the next girl. No hard feelings. No harm, no foul. The key is persistence. You may get pushed away by 14 girls in one club. But by the time you get to Ms. Lucky Number 15, she'll make all of your hard work pay off.
When the girl does give you the subtle invitation within her personal space, remember guys are the gas and girls are the brakes. A guy can only go as far as a girl will let him. In rhythm with the music, place your hand on her thigh. If she doesn't slap you, proceed further. Grab her by the waist and bring her closer to you. In spring break terms, you've just had the second date.

To girls, the way a guy dances is key. To them, the way a guy dances is an indication to the way a guy moves in bed. During spring break, guys can get laid just for thrusting their pelvic rhythmically. So this is a make or break step within The Dance Floor Hookup opportunity. Nowadays, dancing is basically dry humping some girl with your clothes on, but you need to have your bodies move in cohesion. After a few songs, you'll literally feel each other out. While the two of you are grinding away, move your hands that have been roaming her body up to her face and give her a kiss. A kiss during spring break is not the junior high peck on the cheek. A kiss during spring break is a spit swapping, tonsil hockey kind of grope session. After exchanging oral fluids, grab her by the hand. Exit the club. Find a starlit spot on the beach and congratulations! Dance Floor Hookup success!

      

 

Read what Adam Sneed of ASU's online news source 'asuwebdevil' has to say


Check out a new article published in the College Times about Study Abroad Unauthorized!


May 5th, 2004
Paul Giblin - Columnist
East Valley Tribune
A handy guide for new ASU students.

Arizona State University graduate Brian Ary considers his new book, "Warning: College Unauthorized," a work of public service. The book released by Publish America last month, provides an insider's perspective to the final year of high school and the first few years at college, specifically at ASU.

The intent was to cover topics that college freshmen are unlikely to find in official guidebooks, Ary said. "Nobody tells yo u that your mailbox is going to be full with like five or six credit cards with $5,000 limits apiece," Ary said. "When you get a credit card like that, you think it's like free money, so you just go nuts. I know a lot of people, once they get out of school, have like $30,000 in credit debt."
Ary also covers the necessity of waiting in line overnight to secure premium parking permits, the lure of high-stakes gambling, roommate culture clashes, "hooking up" and the relationship between classroom seat selection and grades, among other topics. He discusses it all in frank language.

Ary, 25, graduated with a degree in broadcast journalism in 2002, which, based on the experiences described in the book, was a feat unto itself. He didn't exactly start off as a model student. He set the tone early for his first few years at college. It happened to be raining during the first two days of classes in 1997, so he never left his dorm room at Palo Verde East. Instead, he passed the time playing video games.

In one of the most poignant passages, he describes arriving at his parents' house in Phoenix after his second beer-clouded year at ASU. "I noticed both my parents were in tears like a family member had just passed. Frantically, I asked what was going on. In my father's right hand was a letter explaining I, their youngest son, was 'disqualified' from school. The music screeched to a halt. The proverbial house lights were abruptly turned on. The big party was over. My sophomore year, I was kicked out of college," he wrote. He enrolled in summer school and focused on his grades for the first time. A year later, he applied to the journalism program. Again, a letter was waiting at his parent's house. "I took a deep breath, slid my finger underneath the opening and skimmed the first paragraph of the letter until I came to 'Congratulations. You have been acce...' I didn't even read the rest. Immediately, I threw my hand up in the air, stomped my feet and did the holy ghost dance like I was in a Baptist church on a warm Sunday afternoon."
Ary wrote the book mostly during his final two years at ASU, though it omits his senior year and his seeming impossible graduation. Those will be the topics of a sequel, he said.
contact writer: (480) 970-2331 or pgiblin@aztrib.com

Book tells of 'Unauthorized' days at ASU
Former ASU student publishes story of life as a Sun Devil
by Annemarie Moody

Brian Ary, 25, released his first book, “Warning: College Unauthorized” in April. Ary graduated from ASU in 2002 with a degree in broadcast journalism. Much like Paris Hilton, ASU is trying to lose its image as a partier. But for some students, the college experience is still just four years of merriment.
"I saw so many things and had so many experiences here," Ary said. "ASU is a unique school -- it's like living in paradise -- and I wanted to share some good stories with people."

Ary graduated from ASU in 2002 with a degree in broadcast journalism and is planning to move to Los Angeles in September to pursue a career in television production.
Born and raised in Phoenix, Ary said he sometimes wants to "give out autographs because you don't get to see a real, live Phoenician very often." Ary said he doesn't consider himself a writer, but a storyteller.
"There are things about college that people tell you, but you don't really get it until you live it, like having a horror roommate or having five credit card applications waiting for you when you move in," he said.
Universal experiences like roommates and fraternity parties are discussed in Ary's book, as well as some unique times from ASU's days as a bona fide party school.

"I'm kind of old-school ASU, having fun was our priority," he said.
The book talks about Ary's own fun times, as well as ASU's stint as the hub of Sammy "the Bull" Gravano's ecstasy ring, and the triumph of the 1996 football season that ended in a close loss at the Rose Bowl.
"Four times that year, the goal posts got ripped out, and once, people paraded them down Mill," he said.
Ary said he doesn't regret the crazy times he had in college but is glad he has moved forward with his life and is even happy to see ASU change its image as a party school.
"My diploma is increasing in value as we speak, and I can't blame any institution for trying to better itself. But because ASU is huge, it'll always be a place to have a good time."

ASU's image as a party school may be debatable, but ASU police spokesman John Sutton agreed with Ary's assertion that ASU is making the appropriate steps toward lowering drug and alcohol arrests.
"I understand ASU's reputation was true several years ago, but they've turned it around," Sutton said. "Officers aren't seeing any type of behavior that would lead us to believe that problems with drugs or alcohol are any worse than a couple of years ago."
The numbers haven't made giant changes since 2000. At ASU Main, there were 404 liquor arrests in 2000; 134 in 2001; and, 287 in 2002. There were 120 drug arrests in 2000; 139 in 2001; and, 168 in 2002, according to Sutton.
However, "The numbers aren't really indicative of what is going on," Sutton said. "The fluctuations could be more due to the fact that the department had less money to spend on officers on alcohol patrol."

At any rate, Ary said he has gotten a "solid response" from "Warning: College Unauthorized" and is working on another book about his experiences abroad in the legendary clubbing city of Ibiza, Spain -- "All your dreams come true there," he said.
"There are good changes happening, but I always want Sun Devils to party on," he said.