Monday, May 22

Miami Vice

Just got back from a much needed getaway to Miami with Y—it was loverly. We planned the mini-vacay back when I was neck-deep in school work and she was drowning in whatever shitty water work she does for a living. The point is, we were due for some R&R and thought a sunny locale would do the trick. And dude were we lucky—Miami had just gone through a stretch of rainy weather…until we arrived! Clear blue skies, low 80s, and just bearable humidity. Sigh…

Besides sunning and eating and drinking a few cocktails, our trip also taught us the following:

1. Why did the Alligator cross the empty bike path?...
…uh…to leave large logs of their white shit in our way as we biked through the Everglades? Oh, and to scare the crap out of us? Yep, Y and I powered through an early morning wake-up (7am! Is this really vacation?!?!) and endured the blazing South Florida sun to take an airboat ride, marvel over lengthy alligators, and bike up and down a seven mile path through the muddy sea grass. We’d stop for water breaks and freak out every time we heard the grass rustle, worrying that a gator would emerge and eat us alive. Seriously.

2. Screaming will not prevent bugs from attacking you
in true drama queen fashion, Y and I screamed like little bitches (okay, I screamed more…but she’s loud too) every time bugs flew into our faces while biking. Which means we screamed the entire fourteen mile trip. Best Time Ever. Too bad no one heard us…or did they?

3. The best deals are those not found in tour books
My two biggest vices: alcohol and food. Nothing is better than a cocktail…and nothing sounds less pleasant than a diet. So what’s a better treat than free drinks and cheap food?

Our first nite, Y and I ventured far away from the South Beach club scene and instead went to Purdy Lounge, a local lounge that’s more hipster New York than balmy Miami. We were so lucky to get there on a Thursday nite—Ladies Nite—chicks can get cosmos, apple martinis and well drinks for free. Y and I were confused when the bartender didn’t ask for money. But we weren’t going to argue with him…instead, we tried to down as much as we could before midnight.

Starved and exhausted after our Everglade bike ride, Y and I desperately needed to refuel with food. En route back to Miami, we looked for eateries using our highly sophisticated criteria: (1) Is it a restaurant? and (2) are there cars in the parking lot? We’re easy gals. A random seafood place right off the main road satisfied both points--The Fish Market. We walked in looking gorgeous—all sticky with sweat and smelling like gator poo—but who knew we’d step into a happy hour that already started (it was barely 2pm!) where we could down $3 draft beers and get a dozen oysters or ten wings for $4. I love Florida. And even better, I loved our deliciously hot waiter.

My favorite find of all—our pit stop at a local bakery (Don Pan, was it?) where we gorged on dulce de leche pastries. This was a mere 15 minutes after the aforementioned happy hour of oysters and wings. We are such pigs. Seriously, if I didn’t have to put on a bathing suit later that day, I would have eaten an entire box full of pastries. Oink.

4. We don’t like boobs with our breakfast.
Why do women enjoy nude sunbathing? No tan lines may be an incentive but…aren’t certain areas a little...sensitive? And is it really appropriate to flash your boobs when children are around? I dunno. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer to flash someone after the sun goes down and only when coerced into a wet t-shirt contest. Not that that has ever happened…or has it?

5. Our scandalous days may be behind us
The closest Y and I came to drunken debauchery was when she hit me in the face with the TV remote after we returned to our room from a rich and indulgent meal at Talula (go and get their cucumber mojito, yum!). Unfortunately, Y got noticeably tipsy earlier that evening after our 2-for-1 drink special at the hotel. That’s one drink for me, one drink for her. If you’re following, that means Y got drunk after ONE DRINK. Pathetic. What happened to the tolerance we built from our college binging days? Alas, I fear those days are gone. So are the nights of drinking till 4 am and sloppily hooking up with random guys who we may or may not take home with us. Good times, good times. I guess we’ve matured (just barely) to a point where a few laid back cocktails and good conversation is just as much fun…or maybe we're just getting old and lame.

Oh how I love getaways…I'm already dreaming about by next one…sigh…

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