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Miami Nice: Go Big or Go Home |
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Miami Nice: Go Big or Go Home
“Sure…come to Miami, it’s been 83 degrees…the weather is perfect…” These were the sentiments that our Florida friends echoed in the days prior to our departure, as well as during phone conversations the entire drive down. The minute we crossed the Florida line, it started raining. But the most hilarious part was that it progressively got worse the entire drive south. We knew that was going to happen. We kept telling our friends to stop talking about the oh-so-gorgeous-weather because inevitably they would jinx it. And what is it called when you expect the unexpected? And the unexpected occurs? A giant PHETASY that’s what (click here for definition).
We began to wonder if we were in an alternate universe when our Sunshine State friends would call us from the beach 90 miles south of where we were, while we were sitting in traffic for two hours in the torrentially pouring rain. We decided this would be a great time to try and brew coffee in the coffee maker we brought. We only wanted to do this because we could. In order get some writing done in the car, we bought an adapter to plug the computer into, but we wondered what else we could possibly use it for. Director of Cool—you win that bet. Coffee makers apparently use a lot more power than you would think.
A couple more shout outs to people who made the road trip possible:
Red Bull: Bridget has been reformed. She used to hate Red Bull. Now she is a die hard fan. Thank you Red Bull for making the 26-hour road trip in one shot and a 14-hour driving shift possible.
Pepperidge Farm: We lived on goldfish for almost two days.
But finally, after venturing through a monsoon worthy of Noah’s Arc, we made it to Miami. Despite a severe case of sleep deprivation and lack of essential proteins and vitamins, we pushed on, and we pushed on hard. Two hours after our arrival we ventured into the Miami nightlife partaking in some of its more distinguishable activities; scandalous bar scenes, NASCAR-style tours of the city, a party where English is considered a second language, and a chic über-fabulous night of dancing until five in the morning. Due to our lack of sleep and traveling disorientation, the whole night took on a dreamlike quality. A couple of times at Mynt, (this is supposedly one of the coolest and most pretentious clubs in Miami—yes, we are THAT fucking cool.), surrounded by the beautiful people with “Be the Love Generation” blaring from the speakers, fog machines and “Pollock-like” light shows we would look at each other and say, “Where are we right now?”
Well, you know you’re in Miami when:
» Your drive towards downtown on a Friday night is a parade of slicked back hair, busty blouses, tricked out cars, and what seems to be the largest reggaeton competition of all time.
» You can find your friend’s apartment by following the spotlights circling the city’s skyline.
» A random monsoon limits your ability to do such simple tasks as buy a salad at a local deli or see two feet in front of you.
» The pool is warmer than the hot tub.
» You change your outfit twice to go out the first night you’re there.
» Men wear tunics in trendy bars and bunnies dance on tabletops and bars.
» Driving to South Beach is like a car chase out of a James Bond film.
» You show up at a party, everyone speaks Spanish, everyone greets you by kissing you on one cheek and you are immediately distinguished as the big white boy.
» Anyone who wants to be anyone waits in line at the hottest clubs for hours, maybe even days, before they get in.
» Less than twenty minutes after entering a club, you’re canoodling with a beautiful Latino woman/man that can’t even pronounce your name.
» Sean gets the “I wanna fuck you” look from more guys than Bridget.
» As the fog dissipates on the dance floor you realize that the beautiful woman you were dancing with blindly for the past three minutes (and kissed) has been replaced by a man.
» You still aren’t sure which one you kissed.
» You have to wait in traffic just to park to get to the beach.
» Everyone wants to know where you are from because your skin pigmentation is comparably translucent and you blind them with your whiteness.
Like a hurricane, the momentum is growing and the movers and shakers are heeding the call. A shout out to our boy from Rhody who made moves and just landed in Florida—he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into. We didn’t get a chance to post this yesterday because our host Gordy has taken it to a whole new level and we have been going full throttle since the minute we arrived in Steamy Miami. We’ve also been busy sellin’ merch and shirts. Miami loves PHETASY. And I have to say, the feeling is mutual. We’re staying. Indefinitely.
Article Series
This article is part 2 of a 4 part series. Other articles in this series are shown below:
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We Made It
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Miami Nice: Go Big or Go Home
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Payin' Dues
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Go Big and Have to Go Home
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