I had an awesome birthday. I was way too drunk for drinks at the Delano, but I had a great night anyway. Luckily, I had asked Catfish where to go to dinner and she told me that some special "Miami Spice" thing was going on and all the nice restaurants offer a fixed menu for $36.
We ate steak at a casual but chic place called Santo and sat at an outdoor table where we shared a bottle of wine and people watched all night long. Oh, how the people of Miami cracked us up! A few observations:
-Skinny jeans don't look good on 99.5% of the population. Sorry, they just don't. Even the beautiful people in Miami couldn't pull them off.
And men--oh dear God, please don't. Noooooooooo. Not even if you're Emo or whatever. Especially not. Lordy.
-The Ed Hardy look appears to have vomited all over Miami Beach. And I like Ed Hardy. The tattooed roses, the rock star looking writing, all the colors, yeah, fine, great on the occasional $80 t-shirt or a pair of Converse. 99% of it was this gaudy knock off Ed Hardy-esque, gold accented, guido sort of look. Not cute.
- Women forgetting to wear pants. We saw at least a dozen. Once again, I'm all for short skirts, love them myself, HOWEVER, it you can't shrug your shoulders without exposing the bottom half of yourself--it's not a dress. Nope. It's a shirt and you need some leggings or something before you leave the house. Even on the hot girls, it just looked odd.
-A lot of people, I mean a lot a lot, appear to be mismatched/dating out of their league. Maybe it's a money thing, maybe it's the cool thing to do, but it was unbelievable the number of gorgeous women or men with ugly/old guys. It could be their amazing personalities, but I don't know.
-Our bus boy. We called him The Shark and when he would approach we would hum The Jaws theme song. During every course, at least once, I would put my fork down and he would run up and ask if I was done. No, I'm not. Sometimes it happened twice. He kept stealing my freaking nachos, he'd clear them with every course and I'd have to ask for more (good salsa). I appreciate your attentiveness--but I'm parked here buddy. I am in noooo hurry and no, I'm not done with those chips.
South Beach has a cool and fun vibe and part of that is you can be whoever the hell you want because there's no way you'll be weirder than the next guy. I saw a guy riding a bike with a rooster on the handlebars, two people wearing hot pink old-school style Ray-ban knock offs, and more gays of every gender class and variation than you could shake a stick at. I saw tons of parents walking down Lincoln Avenue with their children at 11 o'clock at night. Joe Francis, King douchebag of Girls Gone Wild fame, walked by smoking a cigar and flirting with a knock out blonde. Awesome people watching, we laughed until our sides hurt, especially at the outfits.
At the Standard, they all wear white t-shirts with the logo barely noticeable on the sleeve. The girls wear white bottoms, whatever they want apparently, even a barely there tennis skirt or teensy gym shorts with knee socks. The men wear houndstooth pants but wear them however, some cut off at the knee, some rolled up--one leg or both, some super baggy. They wear puffy trucker hats and white bandanas. One of them was sporting the hot pink Ray Bans. Everyone needed a haircut. Dreadlocks were worn by both sexes and several races. Just not what you imagine from the staff at your upper class hotel and spa. It was fun. Quite "the scene".
Unfortunately for me, it was kind of overcast, so not a great day to hang by the pool. Also, when we first pulled up, the whole parking lot was completely underwater and there were signs saying it was SEWAGE....so I was faced with walking through shit to get to the spa. Understandably, I was pretty upset. We had to park 10 minutes away to find a dry spot and magically by the time we got back to the hotel, it had all drained.
Our couples massage was sooooo good and super romantic. If me falling in love with my pretty masseuse is romantic. Man, there's just something about someone who knows the human body that well and whose hands are that soft. I'm kidding though (kind of), it was romantic. The whole day was. We lied on our towels in the Hamam (a round marble heated room) and talked quietly. We sat in the scented steam room and inhaled. We showered in the high powered shower room, lounged on the couches around the firepit, and cozied up together in the hot tub. Nice, nice, nice.
Our hotel was The Crest, one of the original art deco glamorous hotels...'cept not so glamorous all these years later. They've renovated it nicely but it is what it is. Original elevator, which I referred to as The Elevator of Doom (I took photos for you all), that Mr. Ashley and I barely fit into together. Luckily, our hotel was under $100 and within walking distance to everything including the beach, so I can't complain at all. I could see the Delano from my room. We never got back into the car, which was nice.
Anyhoo, I had a great weekend. It was the perfect gift. Also, when I got home, my mom had cleaned my house--which was no easy feat. Talk about the best birthday gift ever, a day and a half without kids and a clean house to come home to. Lucky, lucky me!