OK, this is how it all began. Just six weeks into our courtship Mr. Jimes decides that he wants to pull a Lindsay (Lohan) and jet down to South Beach for a weekend. Would I, his beau of late, like to come along?
Claro que si!
Here's why we love Miami:
1. Because everyone else does.
2. If it's good enough for J-Lo and Donatella Versace, it's good enough for us.
3. A three hour plane ride is almost long enough to make you feel like you're going somewhere important, you just have to keep telling yourself you're not REALLY in Florida.
4. Everyone is Latin.
Here's why we DON'T love Miami:
Please see numbers 1, 2 and 4 above. And, duh, you're REALLY in Florida.
Also, can you believe that people down there are so biggoted and cruel that they would shout -bleep- and PATO (Puerto Rican slang for "fag") at two guys riding shirtless on a Scooter?
Argh, the nerve!
It was also in this beachside Oz (behind the long white curtains at the Delano is a city built by drugs, crime and worse, CUBANS) yours truly was challenged to a dance-off. Yes, I was SERVED!! It was like "Cruising" meets "Fame."
By the end of day four in Miami we were ready to come back to New York. The road back home is always long, especially if you're seated in coach next to some social-climbing hussy with an overbite and a job in PR at Armani -- when will volunteering all your personal information to strangers go the way of acid wash??