Real World Cancun: Please Don’t Spit In My Taco

Oh, Mexico. Land of sand and ruins. Place of history and blood. Of vines and mountains. Mexico: where you can get drunk at a laser lightshow nightclub and then spit in your roommate’s taco and no one bats an eyelash.

Yes, the Real World: Cancun had its first obligatory The Roommates Who Hate Each Other/The Roommates Who Fuck Each Other episode last night, and it just sort of farted into existence, all quiet and smelly, as if MTV was splayed out on the neighbouring bed, our hotel room ruined, that cruel beach sun slanting in through the curtains, reminding us that day has arrived but our hangovers have not left. These kids are just sort of dull, the half-baked sorta people you’d see on a show like Fear Factor where personality doesn’t matter. You just have to be trashy and scrappy and thoughtless. And these kids have that in spades!

So the two couples were:

Those That Hate
Swoony rockerbilly Joey likes to antagonise girls because he’s a little pissant punk-wannabe with that kind of sitting-at-the-back-of-the-class bravado that’s, oh you know, catnip to some of us. The girl he most likes to antagonise, because she is ridiculous, is Ayiiiiiia. They fight about basically everything. She walks around like she owns the place, he has mysterious herpes on his lip, he says mean sarcastic things to her, she yells about cigarettes, and then he spits in her taco. Yes m’am JoJo done up and spit in that girl’s damn taco when they had been out there after the club tryin’ to get theyselves some food. This was in retaliation for Ayiiiiiia running down the street and shrieking “Herpes on your lip! Herpes on your lip! You’ve got herpes on your lip!” It actually turned into a little song and I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a pot and a wooden spoon and paraded around the house banging them together, as if Ramona Quimby were a sad lonely 26-year-old in Brooklyn, sing-chanting “Herpes on your lip! Herpes on your lip! Everybody’s got herpes on their lip!” It was a fun song, and a fun moment, until my roommate came up and spit in my taco. Well, I actually didn’t have a taco and she didn’t spit, but she did give me a withering look that seemed to say Only one more month…, but on the show Joey did, in fact, spit in the lady’s taco. So that started a whole clusterkaduddle and everybody was yelling and Fuckface from UMass got involved and started getting upset.

So the girls were out on the balcony complaining about Joey and eating the tacos that had not been spit on. Those bitches really wanted some tacos. I mean, that’s commitment. Inside the other roommates were just unsure what to do. Hilariously, the girl from Cadillac Stevens’ Foodhut, Jonna, was sitting on a couch-bed eating rolls of ham of cheese. Like taking deli-sliced meats and deli-sliced cheeses and rolling them up into little cylinders and eating them. It was very funny because we’ve all been there, or at least I have. Points to you, Jonna. So everyone was confused and eating ham and cheese and Joey still wasn’t done being in attack mode so he strode out onto the veranda playing a song called “Nobody Cares About Your Spit Taco” and the girls got so mad that they threw water at him and some of the water went into his guitar. His thousand-dollar guitar that is partly electric and now it’s ruined. So Joey went to another balcony and cried and Derek the Gay tried valiantly to take advantage of him in his time of need (someday, Derek! believe in yourself!) and everyone was sad. Well, the girls didn’t care. Ayiiiiia thought it was funny. Because Ayiiiiiia is annoying. I think I hear Joe Rogan calling, m’dear. Go be on that show.

Anyway, eventually the next day or whatever Joey apologised to Fuckface and she was all “Aw, I love everyone,” and then later he took a walk with Ayiiiiiia and they brokered a tentative peace accord. Derek unzipped his fly and unleashed the doves from his pants and there they fluttered and flapped, into the silver-streaked azure sky, looking like souls should look, dancing. Then they decided it would be funny to pretend for the other roommates that they’d just gotten in another fight and she’d hit him so they ran back home and put on a show where Joey raged and Ayiiiiia threw things and all the other roommates were like “Ohhh, she’s going home” and hilariously no one seemed to be unhappy about that but then oh ha ha, Ayiiiia and JoJo gave each other a hug and the roommates said “Aww, we’re friends again!” and Derek unzipped his pants and instead of releasing more doves he just looked plaintively and expectantly at Joey, though he looked in vain. Everyone just sort of cleared their throats and said, OK, yeah, and slowly walked out of the room and Derek stood there alone, bare feet on the cold marble, a clock ticking off in some other room.

Those That Mate
Binky and Jonna are in love. Binky and Jonna are in love but there’s nothing they can do about it because Jonna has a boyfriend back home in Sunstain, AZ and she’s so loyal to him. She’s so loyal to him that when she’s grind dancing and spooning in a hammock and gratuitously hugging and talking about making out with Binky, all her thoughts are on her boyfriend. Every one of them. Every thought other than Man I want to fuck this roommate, every single other one, is about the boyfriend. Binky is upset because he broke up with his lady, and c’mon it’s Can-fuckin’-cun, let’s partay down. Invested in this whole lovers’ duet more than more than the actual lovers is creepy Bronne. Creepy Bronne looooves to call Binky “the Heartthrob” and he’s always smirking and leering while Binky and Jonna dance or flirt or dry hump in a vestibule, staring right at them, with intense bleary eyes. He’s a creeper. At one point when Binks and Jinx were spooning in the hammock Bronne walked out wearing a wig and tapped out Jinkies and got next to Binky and Binks, thinking it was Jinx, pulled him in close and said “Mmmm…” You’d think that would be one of the stupid things I make up to entertain myself while writing these things, but it’s not! It actually happened! Bronne walked out wearing a Jonna wig and spooned with Binky. He will murder someone. And he will murder them hard.

Anyway, at the clurrrb Binky tried to kiss Jonna on the mouth-hole and she was all “Nunh unh!” and later she called her boyfriend and said “Why would you think that I want to be with anyone else?” while her foot massaged Binky’s crotch and she sat there naked drawing an arrow on her tummy that pointed down to her unmentionables.

So, they’re totally gonna do it.

All Those Other Things That They’ve Done
Oh, and, they got their jobs! Yeah yeah yeah! They’ll be working for Student City, an underground luxury travel agency for sex tourists and date rapists. They met their boss, the dimwitted Christina, and she told them the rules. And the Rules, my friends? The Rules are pretty goddamned strict. The Rules are:

- No drinking in front of clients.
- No sexing the clients.
- No smoking near clients.
- If you murder a client, make sure you dispose of the body in a manner befitting Student City’s new Go Greeen! initiative.
- If a client murders someone, give them the $US700 cash you have in your emergency pouch and point them towards El Salvador.
- Fridays are casual.

Now the whole murdering thing ey’body was aight with, but not that DRINKING RULE. Holy fuck, if I want to go out in Cancun and get shitfaced, that is my right as an American abroad on a television station’s dime. That is my RIGHT. Ayiiiiia was especially adamant about this and it was truly beautiful to watch. It was like watching Harvey Milk come speechmaking out of his mother’s womb. Like seeing Malcom X first clench his fist. Like stumbling by accident on Susan B. Anthony in the bathroom and her swatting her hand at you or at the door you can’t quite tell and yelling “Hey, get outta here!” It was truly something. She brought a little soapbox with her to the Student City interview process, where the kids had to talk to Christina about what they wanted to do for the sex tourists and semi-professional Roofie-appliers. Christina just shook her melony head and said “Sorry, babe, no can do. We can’t have anything reflect badly on the company.” Which was… wait, what? On the company that organizes low-rent trips for horrid sunburned assholes from Ohio to get drunk and sloppily fuck and do horrible things they’ll forever regret? That company? What, exactly, could possibly reflect badly on that company? Accidentally decapitating an old Real World cast member while just trying to get them to shut the hell up? Oh Paula, we hardly knew ye.

So that’s gonna cause a problem and everyone will get drunk and several will die. At one point during the Christina Interviews, Fuckface said “I’m a leader.” Fuckface works at Hooters. If that doesn’t spell leadership, I don’t know what does.

I don’t know how to end this. So, here:

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY, MEXICO.