Or at least to South Beach. Our trip thus far has consisted of dream like experience, which make us look at each other and start cracking up. The smoothness of getting down here to begin our holiday ended when we were outside waiting for the grey, beach shuttle with blue writing, which never appeared. Once we checked into our adorable hotel, which we dubbed a gay friendly hotel. A walk to the accent building and through dimly lit hallways brought us to a stark white room with color only provided by a red, shag runner and the box of condoms on the mini bar. We set off to find some lunch and check out the town. A walk along Lincoln Blvd provided us with terrific people watching, a nice lunch, and a familiarization with our surroundings. The concierge was to be in at four so we walked along the beach path until then. An hour, yes you heard me correctly, an hour with Gregg (with three g’s) proved to be most informative as he printed off a book of things to do and went as far as making an itinerary of our three days here. We were standing there for so long that my feet became a little bored from lack of movement. He was so funny with his enthusiasm that when he went to grab something, Janene whispered to me, “ I can’t wait to get back to the room so we can talk about him!” Nightlife does not really begin until 2300 so it gave us time to get a nap in, make our massage appointments, and for me to run down and get a wax. The five blocks turned into eight as random streets were thrown into the numeric. I accidentally passed the place only to be face to face with the legendary Miami Ink. I had no time to stop and stare like the other tourist, I was late for a bit of touchier. Feeling a little lighter, I made my way home to get ready. Dinner was Mexican food and a pitcher of margaritas to get the night going. Our next stop was Sushi Samba, which turned from sushi bar during the day to party with girls dancing on the sushi bar itself. A couple cosmos later found me dancing with a bunch of Chilean TV producers.
Day 2
This is the bizarre day, which ended with me kissing an ex-NBA player. The pool was calling our name for relaxation and a little bit of sunshine. Our massage appointments were more than walking distance away so we ordered a cab. It was awaiting us downstairs with a thin woman running around with a walkie-talkie and a bebe shirt. We got into the cab and told her our destination, including address. She proceeded to tell us she didn’t know where that was and we needed to take another cab. She “apologized a hundred times” and took us to the corner and basically shooed us out. We looked at each other with disbelief wondering if we were on some reality show or if Ana the driver was just a little coo-coo. It was the latter and we got out of the cab and searched for a new ride. Our new cab driver thought the story was quite funny and dropped us off at The Standard. We were unsure that we were at the correct place as the sign on the building was not correct and there was a huge bulldozer blocking the entrance. We ran around the obstacle and made our way into the twilight zone. The third floor held the spa and while walking down the hallway, I made the comment of how I felt like I was in a Mission Impossible movie. We changed into our robs and made our way into the steam room, followed by the sauna, and then to a general room with marble, large steps and bathtubs. We sat and relaxed and then began to watch this guy, who had an incredible body walk around, over to what we assumed his boyfriend, then back over to the tub to wet his face, then put oil on, the back over to the guy, then returning to the tub for some sit ups and more oil. I didn’t know what the hell he was doing but sadly it was turning me on. That being our cue to the leave and wait in the meditation room. An hour and a nice massage later, we walked back to our side of town. Stopping for a bite, we chose a pizza place that didn’t know its head from its ass. There was no apparent line, so we waited patiently, to be acknowledged. Once we placed our orders and there were warming in the oven, our helper told us he would be right back and our pizza wouldn’t burn in the mean time. Once again we looked at each other in disbelief. What is going on in the place? The other girl refused to hear our plea for the banded slices so we waited. After the ordeal we ate outside in the company of a nativity scene, a Christmas tree, a menorah, and dradel made out of seashells. The left over pizza was left on the table in hopes someone hungry would benefit. As I walked through an erotic gallery, Janene yelled for me to come look at the man in drag getting free dinner. We made it back to the hotel and took a nap. Our dinner reservations were at Prime 112, a famous hot spot known for its celeb sightings and Kobe burgers. It was the perfect setting for an elegant dinner, we ordered drinks at the bar and then made our way to the back. Next to us was a couple complaining about the prices and irritating the wait staff, on the opposing side was a table of two turned into five (but on the guys was hot, so that was okay). Beyond the first table was a group of younger guys out with possibly their father. Tons of food passed by us on the way to that table which may explain what we saw shortly after. A pink bottle was lifted chugged, and then passed clockwise around the table. The bottle of pepto appeared for the below the chair and made a couple appearances until emptied and placed back under the chair. All humorous to us as we shared the story with the cheap ass next to us. Dinner was amazing and as we were leaving, Janene asked the guy behind us about his gigantic ring. Turns out he is a scout and received the ring after his team won the championship. We talked briefly and then went outside. Undecided on what to do, we went back inside and joined his table talking until 0200. It was while I was retrieving mints that I was met in the hallway and kissed by the guy, nice surprise. It was interrupted by Janene pounding on the door and we ended our evening early.
Day 3
No plans, no appointments left us slumbering until 1100. We made our way down to the end of the continental US during the overcast day to check things out. A call to our friend guided us to the Big Pink Diner on the corner. Our waiter was very friendly and brought me a Big Pink Lemonade, very tasty. We sat outside and continued our people watching disappointed that we hadn’t seen silly things like the day prior. Then it pulled up, a limo obviously rented, with a group of men in velour track suits with the accompaniment of gold chains and greasy hair. Clearly they thought they were on the set of Sopranos. We made our way back walking off our large lunch, looking at tattoo places. Our stark white room welcomed us back and lured us into bed to watch TV and take a nap. Hours of Law and Order later, we made reservations at 9:52 for 9:30, at 10:07 I realized that we didn’t know what time it was when we called and that the hostess was an idiot as well. The downpour of ran which soaked the Nike runners passing by our room let up enough for a short walk to The Shore Club for a delightful dinner at Ago. Our waiter was a bit eccentric with his description of what kind of mood drugs Paris takes each day and how sweaty he was. We threw in the towel on our partying evenings and headed back to the hotel. My clam spaghetti in white sauce not agreeing with me caused me to lay down with stomach agony. I felt guilty for not going out and expressed that the young side of me still wanted to go out. Janene laughed at the pained look on my face and ultimately me.
We now sit at the airport awaiting our flight home and crossing our fingers that we can get on; a night in Manhattan with an old high school buddy of J’s awaits us.
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