A Weekend In South Beach

When I realized that I would be spending a weekend in South Beach, I was not as happy as I should've been. The idea of a 3-day outing in the Sunshine State did not seem too alluring despite the fact that most people would look forward to catching some rays down by the beach. But my entire weekend was booked with meetings and conferences. Thus, the specter of spending a weekend in Miami seemed interesting, but failed to excite me further.

So, does this mean no fun and pleasure? You must be mad.

day 1

The plane landed at around noon, and our driver was a native of Haiti who actually spent some time in Montreal and New York. He spoke favorably of Miami, quite a good thing considering that he has lived in 2 of the best cities in the world.

About 5 years ago, I spent a week at a good friend's house in Boca Raton -- yes, the posh city where money seems to grow on trees and attitudes rain like it would in Seattle. In any case, that was more about college boys chilling at a town house during Christmas Break. This was more like "young professional spends fast paced weekend in South Beach." So let's get started.

Ah, South Beach. Fortunately, my
hotel room had a balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, with palm trees and a view to boot. The second I checked in, I tore off the suit and replaced it with sandals, shorts and a shirt. I hit Ocean Drive for a nice stroll, and quickly noticed that I was drastically overdressed.

Lesson #1: You could walk into a grocery store with little on and feel comfortable. Bless the area. In any case, as we strolled down Ocean Drive and passed by Versace's place, I felt a hunger come on. So we went by News Café along the Drive. As was our luck, the second we ordered, my pint of Beck's began getting filled with rain.

Lesson #2: If the local waiter asks you whether you wish to go in to cover from the rain, listen to him. The umbrellas did little to keep me dry, but the rain could not sour my parade.

sun back, clothes off

Within half an hour, the sun was out again, the women got rid of their towels and removed the little bit of clothing that was covering them up, and a wide grin emerged from ear to ear once again.

So I continued walking, a matter of checking out which spots deserved a second peak later that evening. Before I knew it, I was sitting at the bar of the Delano, a grand hotel with quite an impressive design and layout. An attractive woman with floss for a bikini mentioned that
Madonna was a part owner with some big-shot architect. And big-shot he was; this guy had vision, the hotel was all white inside. Imagine that, Madonna in white!

In any case, as the
martinis were flowing, I noticed that the Miami heat was getting to la cabeza faster than expected. I decided to meditate in the pool at the Delano for a while. Striking up conversation, I realized that I would miss my business cocktail that evening if I continued with the martinis, so I decided to behave and head back to my hotel.

Lesson #3: When invited somewhere on business, do not miss the business events.

The evening cocktail was nice, mostly because the tropical breeze would sear through my suit and make me look forward to the next time that the Miami sun would kiss my skin. By that time, guests were tipsy and impatient so some of us hit the beach -- at midnight mind you. After about 10 minutes, we realized that our time would be better spent hitting the fine
nightclubs, so we decided to head out to the strip.

party on people

Lesson #4: If you see 3 beautiful women having a difficult time with their parallel parking job, offer them some help. These fine ladies were so impressed with our assistance that they insisted that we accompany them to the club, aptly named Opium.

After the initial shock of paying a $25 cover, we hit the bar. We have no problem paying cover charges, but at $25, we expect more than skin, especially where we hail from. In any case, we quickly realized that it was worth every penny.

The ladies were very attractive, the music was good, and the layout and design were indeed psychedelic. We danced, we drank, we flirted, and for some reason, we ordered
sushi at 2am. Not bad, but then again, after the amount of vodka that we consumed, macaroni and cheese would have hit the spot just as easily.

As we returned to the hotel, the constant reminder that the next day would commence at 8am was upsetting me dearly. So for some reason, I decided to hit the beach at 4am, mostly for soul-searching purposes (as in, "how come I'm so drunk?" and "where am I?").

Lesson #5: A stroll by the beach at 4am is unnecessary when the alarm will strike you in 3 hours.

day 2

Surprisingly, I woke up rather easily, all things considered, of course. I showered, got ready and headed for the conference. As you can imagine, the conference was interesting, but not relevant for this article.

Around noon, the friendly President let us know that we had 2 hours to enjoy the beach. Before he was finished his sentence, I was walking out of my hotel room decked in sandals and shorts again.

We hit the beach and just let the sun destroy us some more. I was in heaven. Too much time had passed since the last time. Too much business, not enough sun -- things had to change.

like sand in a bottle

Those 2 hours passed by quickly. We headed back to the conference, and you could tell that everyone wanted to hit the sights. So at around 5pm, we were done for the day. Again, within seconds, I was naked... well, figuratively speaking of course.

A couple of us took a stroll along the famous Lincoln Avenue. It's a beautiful street, off-limits to vehicles. There must have been a gay and lesbian film festival going on at the time, otherwise, the city's demographics seemed very skewed in this area of the town. In any case, we went into this one store that had artwork that would take your breath away and damage your wallet.

If you like nice things, check out:
http://www.collectionprivee.com/, the pieces that caught my attention were by Frederic Hart.

Lesson #6: Ask the store owner if you can take pictures first.

so much to do

Before we knew it, it was nearly 7pm and we had a special supper ready for all the guests. We got back to the hotel and began with the drinks. The décor was breathtaking and the weather gods were smiling upon us; the skies were clear, the weather mild and the evening young.

Before we knew it, we had feasted on ceviche, dolphin, steak, chicken, pasta, mesclun salad, mashed potatoes, beans, and everything one could possibly desire. As the
beer gelled with the wine, we strolled back into the bar, for what we thought would be one last cocktail before we hit the hotel room to check in.

Then I noticed that about 20 men from our group were in the bar, alone. There were 2 women who were clearly in shark-infested waters. But these were not predatory sharks. The feast had slowed down the sharks and they decided to spare the women.

Until "I" came into the room, that is. I walked up to the bar and stood halfway between my men and the women enjoying their cocktails.

Before anyone could tell, I caught the barman's attention, and began to converse about innocent matters. As the fine barman served my
Port Wine, the women inquired about what I was drinking and where I was from. "Port Wine," I answered. Before anyone could tell, the Trojan horse had worked wonders and my men were attacking the prey. I walked away and thanked the company President for the invite.

one thing leads to another

One glass of Port turned into a handful, followed by champagne and more liquor. While some of us were flirting with hitting the Jacuzzi, that warning about "do not get in after you drink" struck a chord. Instead, a young messenger came to me and informed us of this interesting club right next to ours.

By now, we had to gather the troops and decide on a course of action. We could spot the lineup from our hotel and surely we did not have the energy or patience to wait for long. So we used our ingenuity.

We ordered some martinis (this was part of our plan, seriously) and left the hotel bar. As we kept walking along the beach, we eventually got to the back of this second club, Pearl. The club was along the beach, so the bottom was essentially a big terrace with tables and chairs in a lounge-like setup. We spoke to some Jamaican girls and decided to hit the second floor.

We tried to get in by the back door, but the bouncer caught onto our ruse, saying that he had been there all night and never saw us leave earlier. I replied, "How did we get these martinis then?" He could have guessed that we brought them from abroad, but no one would seem so crazy, or calculating. He said there was nothing he could do, so I politely requested to speak to the manager. The bouncer was doing his job, but he was doing it too well, so while my boys were playing pool along the beach, I thought of pulling some strings.

i'm from askmen

Despite my fairly high liquor intake, I explained to the manager that I was there on behalf of the largest online men's magazine, writing a piece on the South Beach nightlife, adding that the previous night, I was at Opium and I wanted to include a second stop. This worked like a charm and I got the entire posse in.

Trouble was that they all insisted on buying me drinks for my "trouble." About 8
Black Russians, 4 beers, 3 Gin and Bitter Lemons, and 2 glasses of champagne stood before me. I figured that all of this would be wasted on myself. So I went out in search of females (for my shy friends of course).

Within a couple of minutes, I had assembled a half dozen fairly promising prospects, sort of like the amateur draft. The funny thing is, that women think that all men want is to get into their pants. I wonder where they get this impression...

By now, we hit the dance floor and danced the night away. More drinks ensued, and we almost got kicked out (another story, another day).

Lesson #7: 95% of basketball players deserve the reputation they have.

it was late, uh, early

The time was about 4am, I think. We decided that it was time to leave the bar, so we headed back to our hotel, knowing that the next day we would have to be up by 7am -- ouch. For some reason, one's sense of rationale and logic seems to fade after 4am, so I was easily convinced to hit the Jacuzzi and swimming pool. Unfortunately, our hotel had barricaded this area, knowing full well what kind of mad men were staying there.

But give us eggs and we will make omelets, or something to that effect. We managed to get to the hosts' office and hit their hot tub and pool. Of course, since we didn't drink enough, we managed to pick up a mini keg of my favorite Dutch beer and drank it in the hot tub.

By the time 5am came around, we knew that it was time to leave. I managed to get out of the Jacuzzi and head back to the hotel by foot; at our state, we could have flown back to our beds, or more like slept on the beach until sunrise.

got out of bed...

By now, I knew that only a minor miracle would allow me to wake up on time. I was supposed to be up at 7am, and I was sure that I would set the alarm. I did not. When my eyes opened, it was 8:27am. While I deeply regretted waking up late, I noticed that only two-thirds of the people were there for the last session, which went by fast.

At 10am, the conference was over, and I had about 90 minutes to take a stroll by the Atlantic before my driver would be in the lobby.

I looked back at the weekend, and felt that in such a short time, something had changed. I could not tell what it was, until I got back home.

Lesson #8: Life is short and you only live once, so live it to the fullest.

Resources:
Miami Travel Guide
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