Europe wants to pay me to party and get sick. Who am I to deny the offer?

Next year, I will get lost in the fabulous foam of an Ibiza nightclub. I will wake up the next morning hurt and sick and injured. And then, I will get to do it all over again because Europe’s high court says I’m entitled to a sick-free vacation. Life is amazing.

There’s a stretch of beach in Ibiza I like to call my own. I do this not just because I love the endless white sands and the beautiful people, but because like an animal I left my mark there after getting sick on little pink pills you can only get from the Mediterranean party girls — dangerous little daisies who have never been disciplined by a Catholic nun, or the Oklahoma dad who always had his “switch” just a quick trip to the shed away.

I’ll be going there much more often these days, as Europe’s high court has ruled that its citizens are entitled to “do overs” if they get sick on vacation. The Grey Lady reports:

For most Europeans, almost nothing is more prized than their four to six weeks of guaranteed annual vacation leave. But it was not clear just how sacrosanct that time off was until Thursday, when Europe’s highest court ruled that workers who happened to get sick on vacation were legally entitled to take another vacation. …
With much of Europe mired in recession, governments struggling to reduce budget deficits and officials trying to combat high unemployment, the ruling is a reminder of just how hard it is to shake up long-established and legally protected labor practices that make it hard to put more people to work and revive sinking economies.

Sure, I just got back from China, but this … this is gold. I’ve been hesitant to disclose such information until now, but I have dual-citizenship with a certain European country that will remain nameless for the time being. (The story involves the tiny hamlet of Crookhaven, Ireland, German prostitutes, the French Foreign Legion and a great man known only as Phillipe.)

In America, we work. We work, and work and work and work and … then we die. In Europe, someone else works and works and works … and dies, so that I can go on vacation and get “do overs” if I get sick. I live in the best of both worlds.

In America, I work really hard for an anonymous angel investor who believes in the need to explore the more “bizarre” enterprises of life. In Europe, I have a “job” doing something similar, although most of it is done remotely and what I turn in is usually shoddy because they can’t fire me. Phillipe once said that I’m too busy living to be too busy working, or some such psychobabble… It’s crazy and stupid and unfair, but oh so right.

Regardless, I want you to think long and hard about the European high court, its decision, its implications and what it means — not just for drug-addled guys with dual citizenship or full-fledged Europeans — but to honest, hard working Americans like you.

Maybe it means something. Maybe it means nothing. Regardless, I’ll see you in Ibiza, where adventurous souls laugh at Las Vegas claims to the ‘Sin City’ mantle.