We then got the news that the festival was cancelled and we were legitimately bummed. We started topping our coffee's off with Kahlúa, people started handing out Catering shirts and we made the decision that we were going to avoid the airport for as long as possible. At this point we only had two stops in mind: 1. bar, 2. beach.
#15: Adopting Mitch
9:30 a.m.: People were dropping like flies and waiting in horribly long lines to get back to the airport. It left us with a wonderful group of individuals that were embracing the experience as we were. And then we found Mitch. Poor Mitch wandering around friendless on his own so we quickly signed adoption papers and he became our son. "The Great Eight" had officially become the "Fine Nine." And Mitch now officially had 4 new mothers (all the 29+ year old's in the group) and 4 new sisters (all the young whippersnappers in the group, like Mitch).
