Check Out Those Melons!

I work with Big Black Jack from Norbit aka the black guy from White Chicks. Here is a quick visual for those of you that forgot what he looks like:

He's not the actual actor, but looks like him so much that I just call him "Big" now - short for Big Black Jack. So Big and I were having lunch a couple of weeks before my vacation. Like every conversation we have, the subject of alcohol came up. Since it was July and we live in Texas, it must have been close to a million degrees; maybe a million and 2 on that day. As we were talking, he mentions that a nice chilled watermelon would be good on a day like this. Since I am Mexican and he is Black, it was natural that we would agree on the watermelon topic. Big took it a step further. He says not only a watermelon would be good, but a spiked watermelon would be what was needed on a day like this.

I had no idea what he was talking about. As a Mexican, we will put anything in a tortilla. I assume that being a stout black man means you can put alcohol in a melon and it's heaven. As I listen to him, he takes a bite of his imaginary melon and is in ecstasy. I make a mental note that I must have this melon! I plan to have this melon while on vacation. This melon will be cut up and eaten in Vegas.

I ask Big how I'm supposed to get alcohol into my melon. He makes it sound easy - cut a hole deep enough to see the red stuff; pour in alcohol; when it goes down, pour in more. Simple. I then ask what type of juice I should use to spike this bad-daddy. Big, being the drunken professional that he is, rattles off 3 different types to be used, 2 of which are Everclear and Vodka.

Any college-student/young-professional can tell you that Everclear will put a rhino to sleep. It is 151 proof and I believe is prone to spontaneous combustion. To mix that with vodka and some other strong liquor is just craziness. So I settle on vodka being the only logical choice. I go with Grey Goose. 375 ml of French vodka.

My plan is set and I'm ready to do this! My thinking at the time was this: If I soak a watermelon in vodka, I can get drunk and stay hydrated at the same time - this is a win, win! How did I not think of this before?

The day before our Vegas trip, I head out to the market with Nelly. I am on a mission to find the smallest watermelon in the area. We walk into the store and I see the big bin of melons. I'm no expert on melons, but I will feel them up and stare at them if given the chance. I start tossing melons around and I come across a decent little one. I put that to the side and continue my search for something smaller. It turns out my first pick was the winner. This melon is perfectly ripe and is about the size of an over grown cantaloupe.

The next morning we are getting ready for the trip. We are set to hang out with our friends for 3 days in Sin City. Dallas Jabbawockee and his girlfriend Karen Krees are on their way over and we will drive out together. Before Dallas and Karen arrive, I have to get 375 ml of Grey Goose into my over-sized cantaloupe or mini-melon. I think back onto what Big said. I cut a whole and pour in the vodka. It doesn't go anywhere! The vodka is just sitting there in pool in the hole that I made. I tell Nelly's mom about my problem since she was in the kitchen with me. Being the greatest mother-in-law in the world, she jumps into action to help. She goes to get a syringe from her stash of medical supplies. She pulls the needle off and sucks up the vodka out of the melon, re-attaches the needle, and hands it to me. I begin to inject vodka straight into my melon. We repeat this for what seemed to be an hour. Because the syringe was small, we weren't getting very far. During this time, Nelly is commenting on how ridiculous I am and decides to look up "spiked watermelon" on YouTube. Of course there are hundreds of videos. The one she watched says to dig a hole into the melon deep enough for the neck of the bottle to fit. So I did. It then says to plug the melon with the bottle. So I did. It then said that it will take 2-3 days. CRAP!

Dallas and Karen show up and see my melon. Dallas can't believe that I'm trying to fill this little thing with so much alcohol, but I dismiss his concern as jealousy of my greatness. Since I am out of time, we have to transport this melon with us to Vegas. I find a mini-cooler and the melon fits perfectly. With 1/2 the bottle injected, the other 1/2 was working on seeping into the flesh, we make our way onto the freeway. About an hour into our drive, I realize that my melon is sitting at room temp. This can't be good so I call for a pit stop. I put my melon on ice and were back on the road.

I let it sit over night.

The next day we meet up with Dallas and Karen at their hotel and decide to drink and swim. I try to get my melon out to the pool side and am quickly denied. Bastards. We take the melon to Dallas and Karen's room. We are now poolside and Dallas is already a few drinks into the afternoon. I decide it's time to play catch up and have a few of my own at lightning speed. I am now feeling pretty good as is Dallas. During our time in the pool, he made friends with some visiting Welshmen. These are 3 ubber cool guys. First time in the Vegas, first time in the U.S., they are blitzed and loving everything that is America. We share a few rounds, a few stories, and are bonding only like drunk men can do. 

Noticing the time, we (Nelly, Karen, Dallas, and I) figure it's time to go so we can catch our show. When we get to the room, the girls start to get ready. I look over at Dallas Jabbawockee and then down to the cooler. It's officially "GO" time. We both grab hunks of the already carved melon. I grabbed a piece that was part of the whole where the vodka was poured. He grabs some other non-descriptive piece. As I bite into my melon, my eyes widen and I feel the vodka burn on the way down. It was as if I had eaten a shot of pure alcohol. Amazed by how utterly strong this was, I take 3 more bites. It was horrible. Dallas looks at me and says he can't even taste the booze. I remind him that he's already drunk and swap pieces with him. As I bite into his piece, it is just as strong! I have now taken 5 shots in less than 2 minutes. Dallas says that he can now taste it and decides that he can't eat any more - it will forever ruin watermelon for him and he loves watermelon. I take another bite for good measure and agree with Dallas. 

I poured an entire bottle of Grey Goose into the smallest melon I could find. That may have been a miscalculation. We need to do something with this melon; I can't just toss it out - that's alcohol abuse. I look over at Dallas and say "I'm giving it to those British Bastards." He concurs with this idea.

I make my way down to our new friends and declare that I have a gift. They are more drunk than I am and are quick to take it. We come back to the room and I show him our spiked melon. We all take a bite. The Welshman looks at me, remember he is already drunk, and says "I'm off my tits, mate." I don't know what the hell that means, but I bet it means that it's a damn good melon!

I help my new buddy take the melon back to his room. We put it in the sink and get some ice. As we are leaving, we take one more bite. It was sooooo strong that I think I lost some nose hairs. The Welshman shakes his head and says "that's not even a watermelon any more is it?"

Was this the day I decided never to drink again? Of course not. But, I have learned my lesson - next time I'm going with bigger melons. Being a man it should have been intuitive that the bigger melons are just better.