Chronicles of a Miami Weekend

Miami weekends start on Thursdays, naturally. Sometimes, they prolong themselves and turn into weeks.... This particular weekend, started off like this....

6:00 p.m. Road raging in Miami traffic, trying to get home and tidy up my place. My doctor lover from Chicago is staying with me for the weekend. Score!

7:15 p.m. Glass of wine in left hand, texting furiously with a Brazilian hottie I met the previous weekend with the right. Brazilian Boy -let's call him Joao- thinks I'm in New York for the week since I'm tied up with the doctor (Jack) until Sunday evening.

10:30 p.m. Three glasses of wine later, I'm scooping up Jack from the airport and we're making out like teenagers on the terminal pick up lane, a line of taxis are honking at us to move from the side of the road (how rude!)

4:30 a.m. Jack and I are finally done with our first go round of "I missed you's", my bed looks like a hurricane just went through it, a heap of gold Magnum wrappers strewn all over the floor. Please remind me to pick those up later.

1:20 p.m. Rushing into a dress and heels, totally late for work, wondering why the hell I have to go in for three hours on a Friday. I kiss Jack goodbye and promise to be back in time for two dollar margaritas at my favorite little happy hour place.

6:30 p.m. I'm having my second margarita with a side shot of Patron (but of course), Jack's sitting across the booth from me, giving me that innocent smile of his, when my ex's best friend comes up to our table (classic!). I introduce Jack, as well, Jack, and then just continue to nonchalantly sip my margarita. Awkward.

10:30 p.m. DEVOURING homemade Turkish food at our friend's Sosi's apartment: stuffed tomatoes, hummus, pita, fried zucchini, and enough wine to please Spain during Holy Week. Sosi lives in a gorgeous South Beach place owned by her grandma, which means she pays zero rent and has the most amazing ocean view every morning all to herself. Yes, I hate her (love you Sosi).

11:51 p.m. Joao texts me, wondering when I'm coming back to Miami. I'm drunk so I say tomorrow night. Of course Jack will still be in town tomorrow night, but it's too late to retract. Why did I say that?!???!? Oh well, I guess I'll figure it out later.

2:30 p.m. Just woke up. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh...... Jack, Bruno (my dog) and I are headed to Lincoln Road for pizza at the yummiest place ever (Pizza Rustica). The day is absolutely PERFECT. A cloudless blue sky, no rain, no humidity, 72 degrees of lusciousness.... (that never happens). Two glasses of wine with our pizza and we're on to Zeke's, where the beers used to be $2.00 but now they're $4.00 (damn you inflation!). I order Honey Brown, Jack orders a Red Stripe, de-lish!

5:15 p.m. Four beers later and we stroll on down to Van Dykes Cafe, where they play live jazz at night and the bartenders make THE BEST strawberry caipirinhas ever (and key lime martinis).... Jack and I are pretty plastered at this point and we're ready to call it a night a few hours later. Bruno is passed out on top of my left foot, slobber dripping down my heel.

6:35 p.m. On the way to the car I see this flower, I fall in love with it and take a picture.
7:30 p.m. Jack and I are in bed, ready for a sleep fest and some episodes of Diaries of a Call Girl. My phone rings and it's Joao, oh shit. I immediately hit "ignore" and let it go to voicemail. I text Joao a few minutes later: "Hello there. I'm going to hang out with my mom all night" (great excuse if I do say so myself). He replies, "I miss you, let's do something tomorrow." How did I get into this mess?

11:03 p.m. Either someone's knocking at my door or I'm dreaming. The dogs are barking up a storm and as much as I am to trying ignore the sound, it grows louder and louder in spite of my industrial sized ear plugs. I grumpily get up, mumbling and cursing to myself along the way. I peep through the front door hole and who do I see? The two besties, Marcus and Olivia, standing on the other side, pretending to dance to an imaginary tune. Let the madness begin....


12:30 a.m. The four of us (Jack, Marcus, Olivia and yours truly) have polished half a bottle of Grey Goose on our way to Disco!, a gay club in downtown Miami. Olivia tries unsuccessfully to flirt with the bouncer so we can skip the line; she doesn't realize he's gay and could care less about her boobs, which are practically pouring out of her dress. The cover charge is $20.00.... what?!?! Who actually pays to get into places these days? Definitely not us, so on our way we go to Score at Lincoln Road.

1:45 a.m. Score is packed and the line spills out onto the street, beautiful gay boys waiting to dance house music and drink it up. When we finally arrive at the cashier, the cover charge is $25.00. Either I'm missing something, or I need a gay boyfriend, because I cannot fathom people actually throw money away on entrance fees.

1:55 a.m. Olivia and I are hiding behind some bushes, peeing like the two classy broads that we are. I swear! This never happens. A gay couple strolls by us and gawks in disgust. Oh my, how did I end up here? The best friends who pee together are friends forever. Right? Isn't that how the saying goes?

2:11 a.m. Our bladders empty and our hearts happy, we go on over to Buck 15: always free and always a good time. The boys at this place are particularly gorgeous tonight, my eyes are having a field day. Jack's sipping his red bull and vodka as he attempts to dance, successfully stepping all over my new shoes and fucking up my pedicure (I could kill him! Then again I adore him so we'll let it slide).

4:30 a.m. The most sober person wins the honor of driving home, tonight that would be me. We arrive at my place and I tuck Olivia and Marcus into my roommate's little day bed. From this angle, they look like drunken rag dolls. I saunter over to my room and say a little prayer. Thank you Jesus for days off! I intend to sleep until five o'clock in the afternoon. Amen.

8:55 a.m. There's loud music playing in my kitchen, Marcus and Olivia are singing at the top of their lungs to "Telephone" by Lady Gaga. I come outside, ready to kill them both, wondering how in the hell two people can have so much energy! I shoot them a look of death and ask what the bleep they're doing up. They innocently point to some bags of groceries and say "Making breakfast." I grunt and roll my eyes, turning on my heel and going back to sleep. Two hours later I'm awake, staring at this beautiful spread, amazed at how efficient my two best friends are with a hangover... 1:00 p.m. We've just driven through Taco Bell and purchased four Frutistas, a bottle of Absolut waiting to be emptied into them. I'm surprised we haven't accidentally crapped our livers out, but here we are once again, on our way to Fort Lauderdale beach.

2:15 p.m. There are a million drunk spring breakers running around the beach strip in Fort Lauderdale.... half-naked drunkies strutting their stuff, menly tattoos, tramp stamps, and everything else you can think of on display for the world to see. I choose to close my eyes.

2:30 p.m. Olivia and Marcus hate it here in Fort Lauderdale. Marcus calls it "tragic" and suggests we go to a gay bar in Wilton Manors. I have no friggin' clue where that is but agree after Jack gives me a look that says, I'll go wherever as long as I get to the airport by six. Okay, here we go.

3:30 p.m. We are lickity split drunk and ready for some margaritas at Rosie's, a gay bar in Wilton Manors. I'm having a hard time walking in heels and carrying my purse, which has a bottle of vodka inside. Marcus is doing me the honors of carrying it for me. Work it, buy it, own it! I love this man.

4:10 p.m. We're seated outside, a beautiful day finally coming to an end (or so I think). The DJ is playing house and a huge fan is blowing cool drops of water over us. I'm practically floating on air with happiness as the waitress comes with chicken quesadillas, a pitcher of mojitos and three margaritas. I look over at Jack, who's smiling back at me in between sips. I suddenly find myself wishing things were different for him and I, that time and distance weren't a factor and we could somehow make this thing work. Thankfully I snap out of it and come to terms with the fact that right now, I'm single and it's party time. For the most part I've realized that life doesn't usually go the way you want it to, but the way it's supposed to. I can't force anything with anyone, not even Jack, who's practically perfect with his dark sense of humor, neurosurgery degree, and easy come easy go attitude. With all the "seemingly perfect" guys who've come and gone... I begin to wonder, who's out there for me? If anyone at all...

6:37 p.m. Jack and I are saying our goodbyes at Fort Lauderdale airport while Marcus and Olivia wait in the car. I kiss him quickly on the cheek after thanking him for a wonderful weekend (I hate myself for thinking that I'm going to miss him). He asks when he'll see me again and I say "soon". He gives me a funny look and says "you never change". Wait! Is that good or bad?

7:15 p.m. Blissful sleep is washing over me in the backseat, the Black Eyed Peas are playing loudly in the background. Olivia and Marcus are laughing mischievously in the front, I'm too tired to even attempt and find out what evil they're plotting. Not to worry because sooner than later, it'll catch up with me.

7:48 p.m. We are parked in front of my place, Olivia's shaking me: Baby, wake up. I ask what we're doing as she pushes me upstairs, telling me to change into something "hotter".

Annah: Where we goin'? I'm exhausted.

Olivia: Don't worry about it, just dress cute.

Annah: I'm supposed to meet with Joao later, I can't go out.

Olivia: Fuck Joao. Oh wait, you can do that later. (She laughs).

Annah: Can I do both?

Olivia: Yesh.... you can do whatever you want. Hurry up, we're going to a hot birthday party tonight. Look fierce or they won't let us in.

7:52 p.m. I run into my room and pick out a red dress that I got from China a week before. No, that doesn't mean I went to China, but that I ordered it from some Chinese people on ebay. I'm struggling to get into it when my text message buzzer goes off.

Joao: O que voce faz?

Annah: Getting ready to go to gay club, wanna join?

Joao: I thought we had plans?

Annah: You never made any concrete plans with me... did you?

Joao: Is it always this difficult to see you? I'm not going to a gay club, sorry but I can't.

Annah: Why not? Don't you wanna see me?

Joao: I do, but I don't want to dance with any gay guys in order to get to you.

Annah: You're ridiculous. I get it, you just don't want to see me enough.

Joao: I'm watching a soccer game at my place. If you want to join, you're more than welcome to. If you want to do dinner later, call me. If not, have fun with your gays. Tchau!

Annah: Um, tchau.

I have no intentions of calling that arrogant prick! Who does he think he is saying no to me?!

8:45 p.m. We are in South Beach and I have MAJOR diarrhea, the poor lobby bathroom at the Angler's Resort is feeling my wrath. I recite a prayer and hope no one comes into any of the other stalls. If they do, I feel sorry for them. I guess this is what a diet of mainly alcohol and fattening foods for three days will give you. Marcus and Olivia are laughing wildly outside the bathroom door. I love 'em, really, I do.

9:00 p.m. We're eating mushroom and sausage pizza at a little spot next to Click (we never learn do we?), I'm ready for some house music and dancing. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeee

9:15 p.m. Ahhhh, sitting at the bar with Marcus, Olivia, and ten beautiful gay boys. The man menu isn't open for girls like me, but I can still look (and drool) heavily.

9:25 p.m. Cassie arrives with her coworker DJ, and immediately falls in love with a tall Ricky Martin look alike, making it her night's mission to turn him straight. I explain it ain't gonna happen, she gives me the finger and goes on "Operation Turn Out".

9:27 p.m. We have 33 minutes left to take advantadge of the $1.00 red bull and vodka specials. We each order four, and guzzle them within the hour.

10:30 p.m. Dancing with the ghettoest gay guy I've ever seen. His attire consists of jean shorts, a baggy t-shirt with a picture of TuPac on it, a backwards hat, and a smile gleaming with gold teeth. Am I dreaming this? Oh God I'm drunk.

10:58 p.m. Olivia wants to take a picture. I snap this photo with my phone, completely forgetting I have a perfectly good camera in my purse. No flash on the Blackberry, so this is what came out.
11:15 p.m. Joao texts asking what we're finally doing. I ask him to come over to my place with a movie at midnight. I send directions and my address and stick my phone in my purse, knowing all too well I'm going to be late. Cassie asks me what we're going to do. "Watch a movie," I say cheerily. She makes a circle with her thumb and pointing finger with one hand, quickly sticking a finger in and out of it with the other. I laugh and say, "that's not true!" I look for my fabulous ghetto dancer, we break it down to more fab house music. I've forgotten about Joao already.

11:55 p.m. I'm standing outside of club Click staring at a full cup of red bull and vodka in my hand, wondering how it got there. There's a bum asking me for money. I point to my dress as if saying "no pockets" and offer him my drink. He takes it and says "Cheers", showing me a toothless smile.

12:30 a.m. Cassie, Olivia and I are heading to my place as Joao waits for me in my parking lot. DJ is driving (thank God for one sober person).

1:02 a.m. All three girls have gotten off DJ's car and are inspecting Joao as if he was a piece of meat at your local butcher's market. He looks amazing to me in jeans, a fitted white tee, and Converse sneakers. I'm standing against DJ's car, smiling shyly at him. Thankfully, his hazel eyes are smiling back. He's doing a corteous job at indulging the girls in their drunken madness. I slowly pull him away towards my apartment, thanking the girls for their concern. "Be good", Cassie yells over her shoulder. "Be bad," says Olivia. It's too soon to tell what the outcome will be, but from the way he's looking at me, good is looking pretty bleak.

1:25 a.m. The control for my television is playing a mean-spirited game of hide and seek with me. I'm frustrated (and inebriated) beyond belief. Joao says he'd like to just sit and talk, to forget about the stupid control. "Tell me what you want to know," I say. He does.

2:15 a.m. We've spoken about everything and anything for almost an hour. His love of soccer and his family in Brazil. My addiction to traveling and animal rescue. He listens attentively which is a plus, I inwardly pray I don't sound like a drunken rambler. His smile is shy, flirty, and mischievious all at once; I hate myself for my inability to stop looking at him. Trying to keep my composure around this man with all the drinks is quite the job, yet somehow I'm pulling it off. He reclines back on my couch with his arms under his head and I see his tattoo: large Old English style letters, spelling something in portuguese.

Annah: What does that say? (I point to the back part of his right bicep).

Joao: Rius, my family name.

Annah: (I smile). Can I touch it?

Joao: (He laughs). Of course.

I lean in towards him slowly, intoxicated by the smell of his cologne, mesmerized by the beautiful letters. I run one finger slowly over them, feeling the skin, wondering if it hurt. I look up and say nothing, my eyes surely betraying my cool facade. Desire has replaced any previous feelings I had, I hate all vodka drinks at the moment. His eyes smile and he leans forward, I jump up nervously and walk over to my balcony, opening the sliding door to get some fresh air. Big mistake.
2:30 a.m. My dog Mikey bolts out of the balcony and straight to where Joao is sitting, biting him hard on his wrist. In the blink of an eye, blood is trailing down Joao's wrist and onto his jeans, a stunned look in his eyes. I frantically rush to pull Mikey off and finally manage to get ahold of him, shoving him quickly into my room. I get ready to face the music, imagining Joao getting up and leaving, but when I turn he's looking at me, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Can I get some bandaids and Neosporin?" He asks. I go fetch them without saying a word.

2:34 a.m. Majorly embarrassed by the biting incident, I'm completely silent as I clean Joao's bite marks and rub Neosporin on them. I can tell he's smiling in his own silence, but I refuse to look up, fearing I may cry. When I'm done covering all five holes with bandaids, I whisper an apology without looking his way. I'm sober at this point, but don't have the strength to act cool or pretend that I'm feeling anything other than disappointment for what could've been. He breathes in deeply and pulls my gaze up to him. Holy shit it's happening. He kisses me and I lose every sense of willpower left within me. We didn't even make it to my room.

4:30 a.m. Joao and I have baptized my couch, balcony, and kitchen floor. I cannot believe that I have to be at work in less than five hours, never in a million years did I think the night was going to end up like this. Nothing ever develops from sex on the first date, even in my delirious state I'm aware of that. I tell Joao this, he shoots me a confused look through his laughter but says nothing. Well..... at least it was amazing.

6:30 a.m. It's been over an hour since I walked Joao to his car with intentions of going to sleep. The sun is slowly rising and it's pouring here in my parking lot. My red dress, his bloody jeans, and every other piece of clothing we've got on is clinging to our bodies. As for us? We're clinging to each other, making out like teenagers at a Friday night movie. He begs me to call in sick and spend the day with him. I tell him he doesn't need to say any of those things and to just see the night for what it was. He ignores me and kisses my forehead, my hands, my cheek, and every other part of my face. "Come home with me please."

7:15 a.m. I finally gather the strength to pull myself away from Joao's lips and into my apartment. My room mate, Sofia, is getting ready for work. She shoots me a look that says, What the hell happened to you? To which I reply, "I'll explain tomorrow. Well, tonight I mean." At that moment my phone rings and it's Joao. "I'm sitting in my car and I'm not leaving until you get down here and come home with me," he says.

I tiptoe to my window and pull the blinds apart. He's sitting in the driver seat and raises his hand in a small wave. Damn him!

"I'm not going anywhere Joao. I already told you that it was a great night. I'll see you around."

I close the blinds and hang up on him, knowing all too well I'll never hear from him again. I walk into my room and in red dress and heels, lay on my bed. Ten seconds later, I'm on cloud nine.

That Monday, I made it to work at 9:05 a.m. I went through the motions like a zombie, wondering how I pulled off an eight hour shift without any mistakes. I got home at twenty minutes past five and don't think I've ever been happier at the sight of my empty parking space. I trugded up the stairs, each one taking all my strength to climb. I pulled out my keys from my purse and looked up to find a note taped to my door in handwriting that can only belong to a man. Here's what it read:

I had the most amazing time with you last night. And I know you don't believe it, but we can do everything out of order and still come out on top. Please give me a chance to get to know you, we can do things your way. If you ever decide to pick up that phone, I'll be waiting on the other end. Beijao.



to be continued.......