I’d like to take a minute to talk about Cuba. Specifically, my first trip there… for my dad’s wedding.
Now, I had never been to Cuba before. But the second I stepped off that bus to the resort and found out I could get 24 beers for the price of a sandwich? I knew—I was home.
Incident Report: 0700 Hours
"I woke up… soaking wet."
I didn’t go swimming. Apparently, I had pissed the bed in such perfect symmetry that it looked like a two-tone fashion statement.
The resort? Open bar. The first night? I was “tuned.”
And there stood my dad, my brother, and my grandfather—pointing at me, laughing like they had just witnessed the second coming of Cuba Jesus.
But you know what? That was just the warm-up.
The Unofficial Mayor
By the end of the week, the whole resort knew my name. Not even joking—staff, guests, dancers, tourists—every day it was, “Ayyyyyy Jaryd!”
Applause from balconies. High-fives in the pool. I was like the unofficial mayor of Grand Memories.
Partner
In Legend
SUBJECT: THE BROTHER
STATUS: EYE OF THE STORM
ROLE: CO-PILOT IN MADNESS
Let’s talk about my brother.
He was right there for 60% of it. He saw the chaos and somehow kept up—cooler, quieter, but never far from the eye of the storm.
I set him up when I could. Got him some "seasoned women." I think he was 16. I was a problem. But he was down for the ride—and man, we connected in a way we never had before.
From club nights to pool missions, photography gigs to “accidental” parties in other people's rooms, he was there. He wasn’t just my brother that week—he was my partner in legend.
Data Corrupted
Reason: Ocean Current
Reason: Ocean Current
Reason: Ocean Current
Here's where this turns into a full-blown myth. The night after the wedding, I’m still in my groomsman gear. I meet two smoke-show girls... We roll out with five more girls.
We go skinny dipping in the ocean like it's a damn music video. Eight of us. Naked. Midnight in Cuba.
The Mistake
I didn’t know the ocean had a current.
We didn’t come out where we went in. Clothes? Gone. Room keys? Gone. My SD cards with the entire wedding photo set? Gone.
I lost the photos—and my dignity. And now I’m naked with seven girls, no clothes, no keys.
Mission: Infiltration
"I led the squad. We infiltrated that resort like a special ops mission—wet, drunk, and completely exposed. Two pools between us and the lobby. We made it."
// AUDIO LOG: FRONT DESK
"Hey bro, we ALL need new room keys."
That week, I drank for 7 days, slept in a new room every night, had girls fighting over me in the lobby, and apparently became a casino bet among resort staff for where I’d wake up next.
But none of it would’ve meant anything without my brother. He wasn’t just beside me—he was in it. In the chaos. In the laughter. In the moments where memories go from good… to legendary.
To Dad
"Congrats on being the second most memorable man at your own wedding."
To Grandfather
"Thanks for letting me piss the bed in peace."
To My Brother
"You were my co-pilot in madness."
"You never lose the
f*in’ story."
End of Log