Guest stars are our favorite. Like something you see? Have something to say about it? Hit us with a celebrity shot and email us a lil’ freelance action at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Ladies and gents, fat-boy-fans and gym-goers alike, it is time:
sppppriiiinnnnggg breakkkkkkk foreeeeevvvverr.
A spring break survival kit was never really an editorial endeavor that I had etched into my agenda. Am I qualified to offer advice on how to strategically place a fanny pack in an effort to disguise a winter-earned FUPA in a bikini? Or suggest tips on how to corral your crowd to Cancun? What about how to survive a dignified, dare I say, staycation?
Well, here we are.
Fellow Rams, Spring has sprung in the Bronx, and I can finally pack my puffer away for good. Eddie’s has made its annual transition from “geographical place” to “daily must-do activity,” and Public Safety has sent scouts patrolling the lands to ensure all are having good, clean fun. (The same scouts that drive around Tri-bar offering free Uber-esque escorts in the wee hours of weekend mornings, post pizza.) Class becomes seemingly optional, the trek to Central Park becomes laughable and responsibilities are reconsidered. (Do I really have to…?)
An air of nonchalance has pervaded the scene, and temptations of tropical places and tropical bods have taken our to-do lists. The reality of spring break has set in. Back in January, was spring break even on your radar? Perhaps only when your Facebook was inundated with corporate attempts to corrupt youth – (invitations to massive spring break parties in Miami, sponsored by Pitbull and Red Bull and Pinnacle) Did you click “attending” knowing full and well you didn’t have the funds/motivation/desire to concurrently save money, workout, and smile through months of frugality to actually go? Sounds about right.
No, I’m not going to the DR either.
I offer you some solace, fellow poor-planners: THE CLICHED STAYCATION OF NEW YORK CITY. (things could be worse)
I connected with Fordham alum and well-seasoned Eddie’s veteran, Jan Krouham. An heir to the Señor Frog’s throne (his family owns and operates the chain of Cancun-based party bars), Krouham is the reason that the iconic island escapade + international “daging” home now exists in Times Square. It kickstarted its grand entrance just this year, and I quote you, the “nonstop party” has brought its Cancun-cult to our glitzy city, along with an impression and a fan base. Krouham offered me a bouquet of reasons why staycations in NYC are not only actually fun, but socially acceptable, so fear not, Rams – a solution for the nonexistent Spring Break exists.
With locations in Las Vegas, Orlando, Miami, Myrtle Beach and Key West, Señor Frogs has stamped its status in the most party-prone of zip codes of the country, so it only makes sense that its might was brought to Midtown.
“Opening a location in Time Square, the crossroads of the world, provides exposure for the brand and business opportunities on a global scale.”
Allow me to alleviate the probable pain you’re enduring for agreeing to work your unpaid internship during spring break. According to Jan + the Señor Frogs enterprise, I quote:
At Señor Frogs “there are no rules” (eh, we like that!) (yes, I’m talking to you, my peers, the very ones that say “I’m not blacking out tonight,” and wake up without recollection of that 4 AM University Pizza trip)
When you combine an amazing vacation destination + a high energy atmosphere + staff that interact directly with the guests, in your own city, you create lasting memories that keep people coming back year after year. Our locations in the Caribbean, and Mexico have set the stage for our US locations to provide that same experience year round. (Consider Señor Frogs your backup plan from here on out)
We offer Drag Queen Sunday Brunch (dare I say more?)
The all-holy Mother Frogger Margarita (Patron Reposado and Silver with Grand Marnier, Sour mix, lime juice and a little sweetener) is a constant option.
Our philosophy is simple: have fun, let yourself go and unleash your fiesta… (I mean, you’ve gotta love corporate America)
Well thank god for global, eh? Without it, sprang break staycations in NYC would be reduced to Wednesdays at the Bronx Zoo and the journey to Brooklyn for a Smorgasborg ‘gram (mad respect to the ramen burger, doe).
My cynical self has always dismissed the thought of Times Square. I tend to fancy more “cultural corners” of the city and neighborhoods that know how to navigate sidewalks at a normal pace. Freshman year, my roommate and I went even as far as to trek there for the sole purpose of asking a tourist to take our picture. We crossed our arms over our puffer coats, sarcastically frowning, laughing hysterically at our own humor and false sense of entitlement. We equated our forced triple to New York residency. Neither of us are from New York, but eh, a collegiate PO Box counts, right? The city has always had a way of capturing my heart, and now even the slightest bit of evidence to prove my status as a New Yorker boosted my entitlement to take pity on the tourists – the idiots in love with the dirty furry animals that parade around the blinding-light blocks. I even Insta’d the photo, captioning the masterpiece, “Real locals hate Times Square.”
Well, here I am, real local and all, suggesting Señor Frogs for a staycation. Remember, it could be worse.
(Cue the Pitbull music)