• Miami Vices

  
  

  Day 114

  Granted we only spent two days in the heart of Miami, but it was enough to marinate us in its natural vices. “It’s hot,” the stylist who cut my hair responded when asked why settle in Miami, but it’s not a place to call home or to peg down the RV. That’s the bottom line (and right now, not even that ‘hot’ statement is accurate).

  Rather than give you the play by play, we can break Miami down into its core components. Miami is weird.

  The Beach
  We didn’t see any tight bodied men or women roller blading down the beach in thongs as advertised, but it was a chilly day. Instead there were juiced up dudes with tribal tattoos doing push ups off of monkey bars (yeah, I don’t get it either). Lots of women glitzed up and lots with small dogs in their arms (not in purses, mind you). Lots of hustlers trying to sell you things. Our favourite was the ‘star’ in the Wu-Tang Clan who had ‘been sponsored by RZA back in Brooklyn’ to hawk his hand made CDRs to dumb Miami tourists. Trav launched into a debate with him over showcasing work for free which ticked the guy off so much, he walked away while calling Travis some colorful expletives. Good thing RZA Junior was lying, or someone in the Wu-Tang clan will be looking us up and making us sorry we didn’t pay that $10 for their ‘mixtape’.

  What we see on the streets are a thousands of zombies. Some are very pretty zombies and many are nothing to look at at all; all pushing past you, none making eye contact or any connection whatsoever. Our new friend Kelly mentioned that people in Florida are angry. She was right. Everywhere people are scowling (this being their neutral expression). And well, frankly, we just can’t understand what there is to be so angry about. Floridians are in the warmest climate available in the whole of America. They have stunning beaches, warm water, and fresh oranges falling off the trees. It is a land of opportunity and silicone. Yet everyone is in a mad rush to get over this bridge or out of that parking lot or past that weird guy flexing his hairy chest. There’s something in here about eating sour things to appreciate the sweet, but I don’t have to say it.

  Later on, we perused installments at the World Erotic Art Museum. As much genitalia as we saw, we were mildly disappointed since this World Class museum lacked any representation of erotic art’s past or its future. Don’t get me wrong. It was good fun looking at all the creative interpretations of penises and vajayjays, especially exploring such mystified and taboo a topic. However, what we were expecting was over the top furniture (they have a chair and a bed frame, but that is all), more sculpture, and less “I painted this interpretive penis on plywood with blue house paint in 2003.” Sexy museums can’t win them all, now can they?

  The Traffic
  Sitting in a parking lot and counting for five minutes rendered more than 24 car honks. People honk here like Calgarians wear bad shirts with blue flames or angel wings all over them. I don’t know if it’s that Miamiers (Miamese, Miamians?) lack patience or they simply get bored and want to press something, but the echo when sitting in traffic actually sounds like it does on all those movies where there is an endless banter of traffic horns. We are completely out of our element here.

  In Calgary, even if a vehicle cuts right in front of you, you have a delayed honk response. It’s almost an afterthought and the sound rings out like an awkward BAAWWK long after the asshole has left you choking on his dust. Not the case here. Expect an array of disgruntled quacks and  squeaks to punctuate your driving experience as thumbs are kept in perfect quick honk alignment. Even if the guy in front of you can’t move because the guy in front of him hasn’t inched forward, the person behind you will honk. Just a quick one. Like a disgruntled goose. It’s quite hilarious, while at the same time completely off putting.

  The Spectacle
  This happened on the beach, but needed its own section. We went for lunch in Miami right out on Ocean Drive. For those of you who have never been, expect this: cafes and run down restaurants with beautiful hostesses enticing your service with their pamphlets for $6.99 meals or 2 for 1 drinks.

  What you see on the menu: crisp caesar salad with juicy shrimp and homemade dressing; mouth watering mojito.

  What you get: little plate of wilted lettuce, one shrimp cut in half and dropped on either side of the plate, two croutons; $20 single shot mojito.

  It was an absolute sham. I feel badly for all the tourists that get sucked in each hour. Every restaurant, save one or two, hustled you in for a mediocre yet expensive meal all smiles on the way in, ignoring you on the way out. They would look for the hot women, who could then bring in the hot guys to fill up their restaurants. Once you sat down, if you did decide to go for that ‘deal’, you were completely forgotten. The Sea Cafe added a mandatory 17% gratuity to the bill. A small pizza, side salad, a beer and margarita came to $54 and they expected additional tip. Read the reviews for the oceanside restaurants. They’re all the same. The rule is, keep walking until you don’t have someone bleating at you about their specials. The quiet place is the winner.

  We will definitely come back to Miami. But we’ll stay away from mad cow drivers & deceptive, beaten down restaurants. Most importantly, we’ll double check the forecast before embarking.

  Posted on February 13, 2010

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