Miami Saturday

-Euli's oreja in the Tropical heat

Despite the fact that I came home at around 4:30am I woke up super early. Everyone except for my mom was pretty much asleep. I went to the gym after a bowl of leche-con-con-flay (milk with corn flakes). When I got back home, I attempted a short nap after showering but my mom and grandfather talked me into driving them to an old Cuban lady’s house whose son is my new uncle in law. I for some reason knew that this would be a bad idea from the second I heard it. How boring! Que aborrido yo estaba! Old Cuban folk can talk and talk and talk about absolutely nothing. My favorite parts are the old stories of Cuba but those come wrapped in endless nonsense concerning the mundane, and talks of surgery, doctors, ailments, and yet more nonsense. We stayed an infinite hour that was topped with rounds of café Cubano. Later that afternoon, I met up with my boy at the beach and took lots of pictures and ate bad seafood at a shin ding called Miami Subs on Washington Ave. The place reeked of frying oil, which clung to the colorful tropical mural of exotic plants and birds of its inner walls. A section of the restaurant was ruined my a drip that came from an air vent located above a cheap fiberglass eating surface which contained who knows how many dysentery causing bugs. The droplets caused a constant outward splash from the unattended, almost full bucket that was placed beneath.

After getting my fair share of pictures, I was about to leave the beach but got a phone call and stayed behind to meet someone else for a dinner date. We ate burgers at Cafeteria on Lincoln Road. I had the crab burger, with the avocado on the side. It was great to know that my real life existed in present winter, yet here I sat, outdoors, in summer gear, allowing myself to forget all that I left behind. The date went well under a cloud of what felt like quasi-interest indifference with misleading outbursts of shine here and there. We bid farewells and went on our way.

Later that night, I met up with my high school buddy, and a freind from NY, at a seedy little hole in the wall called Azucar, near Coconut Grove. I was greeted by the club-goers with that starved fresh-meat look of desperation. Do not get me wrong I like attention. It is just that I received enough of it for the entire year that night. My friend kept laughing and would pop up every ten minuets or so to remind me of that fact that his friends all seemed to be lust-struck and it was my entire fault. The compliments, and drink offers came in all night. Yet, I only had a Corona and a Vodka-Cranberry that entire night. Whenever, I would put a cigarette to my mouth several lighters or matches would immediately appear before me. I tried it several times even when not really caring for a cigarette just as a feels-good experiment of sorts. The attention was cool but a little too much. We decided to leave and hit a bar on the beach where I would also be deemed fresh-meat by the locals and received a few inappropriate comments. Flattery seemed to be running amuck, and I was all smiles or eye rolls. During the thirty minuets that I was in there, I decided on a cranberry juice since I had already long-ago finished the two drink limit I set for myself that evening. As soon as I had the first sip some soul who couldn’t seem to keep its hands to its self decided to run grimy fingers along my back while passing me. Inadvertently Miss Thing also managed to get a finger in my drink and knock it down. The entire artificially colored juice cocktail hit the ground and then with a great splash, showered me from head to toe. I was doused pink in the middle of my parade. If looks could kill, that tacky bitch would have been dust. One entire half of my tang top was now ruined and soaking wet as was my beautiful baby blue Nike polo knit shirt. I was so pissed! I took off my shirt for what may have been the 9th time in my life in a club/bar environment. I realized how uncomfortable and self conscience I actually am about my body surrounded by all the muscle beach-bunnies whose full time job seemed to be working out. I remained an extra 15min, and after more tacky ill attempts at come on lines from sun seared third parties I went home.