Chronicles Of a Miami Weekend, Part II.

I must confess it’s been extremely difficult to work, lead my usual crazy existence, deal with an exceedingly demanding Cuban mother and three spoiled dogs, and write this blog of mine at the correct pace.

Two weeks ago, I was pulling a note off my door, thinking of the endless possibilities waiting for me if I continued to tour Brazil, also known as Joao’s body. Tonight is Easter Sunday, and the only possibility I’m thinking about, is my bed. I depart for Buenos Aires in five days and as I look back on the past two weeks, the only one in need of a resurrection this Easter, is me.

It didn’t take long for me to pick up the phone and call Joao. Honestly? I simply couldn’t resist. It’s Thursday, March 25th and we’ve been making beautiful connections via text and over the phone for two days straight, which in and of itself, is a miracle. Of course I’m overlooking the fact he’s twenty-four years old and a cocky little fucker who knows he can have any girl he wants. I’m also choosing to ignore he’s an only child and a Sagittarius just like me, and that two people who are used to always getting their way together can only yield explosions of the tragic kind. I’m disregarding all the red flags waving wildly at me, indicating danger ahead. Yes, I’m choosing to bypass all that and get to the good part, him. Joao, all 6’1” of him, with his dark hair, hazel eyes, intoxicating smile, fit body, and that tattoo. Hmmmm, that tattoo….. Anyhow! I digress. Tonight, we’re meeting for dinner and a movie at Brickell, you can call it a proper date. The problem is, I don’t do well with proper, and even though it’s only noon time, I’m itching for something different. I wonder, where will Annah end up tonight?
3:30 p.m. Lola is arguing with the on/off boyfriend again and tonight, she’s hurting for a certain little something something. She asks if I want to hang out with her tonight and I reply that I have a date, the proper kind.

3:47 p.m. Maybe I can find a way to convince Joao to bring one of his friends and we can sort of double date, just maybe. I pick up the Blackberry and start this trail:

Annah: Hey, would you mind changing plans just a tad bit?

Joao: Not really. What do you have in mind?

Annah: I was thinking we can skip dinner and just do drinks? Maybe a little dancing?

Joao: Sure, where to?

Annah: You’re the young one (he’s three years younger than me), make a suggestion.

Joao: LOL, yes grandma. You’re so old. Want to go to Fort Lauderdale? Las Olas has a great ladies’ night.

Annah: Hmmkay, sounds good. My friend Lola is fighting with the boyfriend so she’s going to tag along. Bring a friend!

Joao: Don’t see that being a problem.
Okay, here we go.

8:30 p.m. I’m listening to Unthinkable by Alicia Keys (Hello! This song is uh-mazing!), doing my makeup for tonight and trying to figure out what to wear. I opt for a short forest green dress and pink heels. I think my outfit says cute, but not trying too hard. Just what I was looking for.

10:15 p.m. Joao had some dinner plans with his mom, so I’ve asked him to just meet me at Las Olas. Lola’s just picked me up and we’re heading there, drinks in hand and music blasting (children: don’t try this at home).

11:00 p.m. No offense to anyone who lives in Broward, but it’s obvious that the people up here in Fort Lauderdale are a bit on the raunchy side. It’s hard to explain, but the vibe is just not as “chic” as my beloved South Beach. Lola calls me an idiotic snob and hands me a drink from the bar. I happen to agree with her, so I shut the fuck up and welcome the second of many, many drinks that night.

11:35 p.m. We’ve left Off the Hookah and are now headed down a strip of bars in Las Olas Riverfront. We choose a place called “Bar” (what a creative name) and order two red bulls with vodka. We are the ONLY people in this place, asides from the dj and bartender. This night is looking like a tragedy already. His nails are painted black and he’s wearing more make up than I am, black liner smeared heavily under his blue eyes. This is what my friend Marcus would call “tragic”. Lola is smitten.

12:20 a.m. Joao has texted saying dinner prolonged itself and he’s finally on the way. Something smells fishy to me with this whole dinner situation, but I’ve had enough drinks not to let it bother me. I’m talking to an attractive guy from London whose name is Jaz. I don’t really know why, but I think we’re going to be good friends.

12:55 a.m. Jaz is part of a London cricket team. I tell him I love cricket and pretend to throw an imaginary ball with my hands. He shoots me a confused look and asks “You’ve no idea what cricket is do you?” I laugh and shake my head no. Damn it! 1:05 a.m. Jaz and his team of English cricket players have been traveling all over the country, playing tournaments by day and abusing their livers heavily by night. There are only two things you really need to know about English men: one, their accents are sexy as hell. Two, they love to drink. Jaz is no exception to this rule, even though he’s really from India but has been living in London for most of his life.

1:15 a.m. Jaz has bought Lola and I our second round of drinks, by now I’ve completely forgotten why I’m here or that Joao is on his way. I’m in the middle of learning how to do Bollywood dancing. Jaz says you have to pretend to be screwing a light bulb on with one hand, and petting an imaginary dog with the other. I’m doing this incorrectly and successfully looking like a fool, but I’m having a ball so I continue. Jaz is doing it too, in spite of the fact that people are giving us weird looks. We’re both laughing as we do our Bollywood dance moves closely. I twirl a few times and look up to see Joao by the door staring at us, an unhappy look on his handsome face.

1:19 a.m. I quickly apologize to Jaz and tell him I must go. I grab Lola and rush her to the exit, where Joao is standing with another hot brazilian boy, a tight little smile on his face. I give Joao a kiss on the cheek and introduce myself to Paulo. If Joao is an overly confident jerk, this guy is an arrogant prick. I hate him already.

1:35 a.m. We are all at Living Room now, where the music is contagious and the crowd is attractive and full of energy. Most people here tonight are either Brazilian or Jamaican, I make a mental note to come back here on Thursdays. Paulo has purchased Lola a drink, albeit a bit reluctantly. Joao and I are in our own little world, dancing closely together and kissing in between. He smiles that gorgeous smile as he puts his arms around my waist and pulls me close, I think I’ve melted and dripped all over him. Heaven.
2:05 a.m. Lola has ditched Paulo and sauntered over to the back bar to buy herself a drink. I’m dancing with Joao when suddenly a girl grabs him by the arm and pulls him away from me, her face twisted in an angry scowl. Joao seems surprised but remains cool, pulling his arm away from her and introducing us. Her name is Casandra, and when I extend my hand out, she ignores it and tells Joao she needs to talk to him, outside. A dreadful feeling washes over me because I know exactly how this is all going to end up.

2:18 a.m. Joao grabs me by the hand and goes outside to a bench. He asks me to please wait for him there and then gets up, walking only a few feet away from me. Him and Casandra are arguing heatedly about something in portuguese. I strain to hear the words, and although my freshman year in college was a long time ago, my ability to understand portuguese is still intact. I hear what I need to hear until my suspicions are confirmed, then I get up and leave Joao and Casandra behind. I go straight to the bar and order a shot of Patron, fighting the stinging in my eyes.

2:45 a.m. I’m dancing with a short little Mexican (he can’t be more than 5’3”). In my heels I’m probably about six feet tall. Lola is sitting by the bar with a really cute American boy, she’s shooting me weird looks and waving for me to go join her. I excuse myself from Speedy Gonzalez and go over to where she is.

Annah: What’s up?

Lola: You tell me. What happened to Joao?

Annah: Um, well….. it turns out he has a girlfriend, or had a girlfriend. I really couldn’t understand too much. Apparently the girlfriend’s best friend caught us dancing together and the shit hit the Brazilian fan.

Lola: And you didn’t demand an explanation?Annah: Um, there’s nothing to explain. I just left him back there with that girl. I haven’t seen him anymore so obviously he’s not crying over me or anything. He has bigger things to worry about.

Lola: (laughs) Apparently not. Don’t look, but here he comes. He does NOT look happy.

I turn to see Joao approach me at the bar. I immediately put up what I like to call “the bitch wall”, giving him the evil eye and crossing my arms across my chest.Joao: Posso falar com voce?

Annah: Whatever you want to say, needs to be quick and good. So say it.

He proceeds to explain he’s been in a rocky relationship for the past year and that they’ve been trying to work things out, but then he met me and everything changed (yeah friggin’ right). Tonight he went to dinner with her to end things and coincidentally runs into her friend Casandra at this club. I’m not believing a word he’s saying, but I listen politely until he’s done. When he’s finished, I thank him for a good night and say it was nice to meet him. I walk away and find my short little Mexican to dance with, leaving Joao and his gorgeous ass behind for good.

3:45 a.m. It’s pouring rain and Lola and I are eating tacos with Speedy Gonzalez and his other little Mexican friend. I have to be at work in five hours and after devouring this beef and mushroom taco, I decide it’s time to call it a night. Speedy is looking at me with smitten eyes as he makes all sorts of plans for us for the weekend. I’m excitedly agreeing with him while he takes down my number. The poor little guy doesn’t know he’ll never see me again. 4:30 a.m. I’ve made Lola stop in the middle of the expressway so I can pee on the side of the road. This is the second time I do this in the past month, I hope it doesn’t become a trend but I can’t help myself; either I’m getting old or my bladder is shrinking. Either way, it’s happy hour for all the worms who inhabit this expressway soil. My urine is composed of mostly vodka.

4:55 a.m. Soaked in my green dress and heels, I slowly stumble up the steps to my apartment. Joao is sitting on the last step by my door, looking dry and beautiful in his jeans and cotton tee. I ask him how long he’s been there and he replies forty five minutes. I take a long and pensive look at him, exhaling deeply. I guess one last go round won’t hurt anyone right? This time, we make it to my room.

8:30 a.m. I wake up to find a naked Joao next to me, his tattooed arm wrapped tightly around me as he sleeps blissfully. I slowly untangle myself away from him and out of the bed. I have exactly fifteen minutes to get dressed and head to work. I have never, ever, been this tired.

8:47 a.m. Both Joao and I are rushing out my front door, two bottled Starbucks’ coffee in our hands. He kisses me deeply when we get to my car, asking if he’ll see me again. I say I’d love to try to do dinner and a movie sometime soon. He says he thinks it’s a great idea and that he’ll call me. He does call many days later, I just never answer.

5:15 p.m. Just got out of work and on my way to kill the mouse with my friend Robert at Chili’s. Robert is Cassie's gorgeous jail bait brother (he’s 24), whom I can actually count as one of my real guy friends. I’m stopped at a red light and there’s a car parked in front of me with a tag that says “Chorizo”, which means “Sausage” in Spanish. What a douche bag. 5:32 p.m. The first thing I notice after sitting next to Robert and kissing him on the cheek, is the hot but ghetto guy standing right across from me at the bar. I look up and we lock eyes for about ten seconds, neither of us looks away. Hmmmm, interesting.

6:30 p.m. Ghetto guy -we’ll call him Will- is wearing a backwards hat and oversized t-shirt with jeans. I will never understand why men think that this look is attractive or even sexy, but whatevs. He has a really beautiful face, long dark lashes frame his light brown eyes. We’ve been doing a staring contest for the past hour, every time I get shy I bury my head in Robert’s shoulder.

6:50 p.m. We’ve had our share of burgers and beers and are ready to call it a night. With one hour of sleep in me, I wonder what exactly I should do for the rest of my evening as I steal glances at Will across the bar. Robert says I need to go home and sleep. Arrrrgh! I hate it when he’s right!

7:02 p.m. Robert just paid our bill and Will is still looking at me from across the bar. I’m not leaving here until I give him my number, so I call the bartender and ask her for a pen. I grab a napkin and write the following note, immediately feeling like an idiot for doing such a thing.

“You are cute :) Call me.”

I quickly scribble my number and give the napkin to the bartender, asking her to please send it over to Will. She laughs and does exactly that. When he finally gets the note, he looks at me and a big smile spreads across his face. I receive a napkin back through the bartender as Robert is rushing me out of the bar (it's date night after all). I fold the note and put it in my purse, waving goodbye to Will as I'm leaving. When I get to my car I open it,

“I’ll call you tonight”, it read.

And that he does. 2:00 p.m. I’ve just woken up from a much needed fifteen hour nap. I’m feeling like a refreshed sleeping beauty. After running a few errands, I’m ready for a busy night of spreading myself too thin. If anyone can do it, it’s me.


7:50 p.m. I’m dressed to kill in a red dress and turquoise accessories, Will is on the way to my place for dinner and a movie.

8:01 p.m. The man is on time. I rush to pop my last contact lens in and end up poking myself in the eye. Ugh! Punctuality is so over-rated. I open the front door and realize, this is not the ghetto guy from the bar. Will looks sharp in dark denim jeans, a button down shirt, and black shoes. His hair is cut really short and he’s standing at my door way, holding a bottle of wine. I ask him to come in and get ready to cook. We’re making meatloaf.

8:33 p.m. Will is pouring the spices and eggs into the ground beef for our meatloaf extravaganza as I mix it all together with my hands. We’re having really great conversation and laughing a lot, he gives me sips of wine in between since my hands are deep in the beef (ground beef that is). I think this is the cutest date I’ve had in a while.

8:51 p.m. We’ve popped our meatloaf in the oven and set the timer for 60 minutes. I hope it doesn’t taste like shit and Will realizes my incompetence around the kitchen. We find comfy spots on my couch and order Ninja Assassin from OnDemand. When we finally settle on the couch, he puts his arm around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but for a brief moment, I consider staying home for the night. We watch half of the movie, make out for the remainder of it. Will is a really good kisser and I’m totally appreciating his use of the “PG hands”, meaning he’s not trying to cop any sort of feel on the first date. Brownie points for that.

9:59 p.m. We’ve served dinner and poured more wine, candles are lit on top of my dining table. We proceed to have the most normal of first dates ever, even if we are in my dining room and not a fancy restaurant. He tells me about his life and interests and I listen attentively, even if I'm a bit bored by it all. He then begins to tell me about being laid off recently, his disdain for school and reading, and how his idea of a good time is “chillin’ at home”. Yeah, this isn’t going to go anywhere.

10:45 p.m. I thank Will for a beautiful evening and we make plans to hang out the following day (all lies of course). Ten minutes later, Lola is downstairs and we are on our way to the Hard Rock in Fort Lauderdale. What time is it? Party time!

12:10 a.m. Lola, her sister Jan, and myself are at Murphy’s Law, an Irish bar at the Hard Rock. The crowd here is kinda lame, fraternity type of young boys are running around high-fiving each other and drinking beer. What a friggin’ turn off. I’m not really looking for anything or anyone tonight, so I stand by the bar with my drink and sing along with the live band, which is playing “Living on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi.
1:05 a.m. As I’m exiting Murphy’s Law and on my way to Passions’ nightclub, I bump hard into a tall, heavily muscled guy. I look up and find myself staring into beautiful green eyes, as I mumble an apology and walk away. He grabs my hand softly and says “Wait!”Annah: May I help you?

Edward: Yeah. I mean yeah I guess. Can I buy you a drink?

Annah: I’m actually just leaving, but that’s very sweet of you.

Edward: Can I buy you a drink tomorrow?

Annah: (Laughing) Well you don’t waste any time, do you?Edward: Life’s short.

Annah: (Pulling out my phone). Give me your number.

Edward: 555.555.5555.

Annah: Okay, I’m going to text you later on tomorrow and you owe me a drink.

Edward: (Bursting into a huge smile). It’s a date.

I rush out of the bar and look for Lola and the rest of my friends at Passions. When I arrive, Lola’s dancing with a gorgeous dark haired guy (you go girl!) and Jan is dancing with another cutie. Penelope is drinking a cup full of vodka and I swear if there was a lighter in front of her mouth right now, she’d light this entire place on fire, dragon style.
4:10 a.m. Sitting outside the Hard Rock, eating hot dogs with Lola, Jan, Penelope, Chris (Lola’s doctor for the night) and his annoying little friend Brian. My hot dog has jalapenos, hot sauce, sauerkraut, ketchup, and mustard. Chris is sitting next to me, and after I devour my hot dog in two minutes flat, I start eyeing his. He smiles and offers me a bite. I tell him his hot dog is boring because it only has ketchup, but still take a huge bite out of it anyway. I then proceed to make fun of him for wearing a funny looking shirt with an elephant on it. He says I’m deflating his ego and pretends to cry, I make an elephant noise and pretend to raise an imaginary trunk. It’s too bad this boy lives in Milwaukee, I think him and Lola would’ve made a cute couple.

5:05 a.m. My toilet and I are making beautiful music together. This is what I get for making fun of Chris’ boring hot dog. Ouch!

12:30 p.m. I’m in church this Sunday, helping the good Christians of the world prepare for a party. If there’s something that black Christian people love as much as Jesus, it’s food. Right now I’m cutting cake in a dress and sky-high red heels under the supervision of a lady named Claretha. She keeps on telling me to “Cut those pieces smaller sugar, there ain’t gonna be enough for everybody with them big ol’ pieces you’re cutting.” Uh, I love my life.
6:20 p.m. Cassie’s stepmother is having a birthday party at her home in Miami Lakes. I’m swinging by to eat some cake (yummy) and sing along to the mariachis. Andale andale!
9:01 p.m. Cassie, Lola, and yours truly are back at the usual Sunday spot, Van Dykes’ Café on South Beach. Three strawberry caipirinhas are waiting to be inhaled, the perfect ending to a beautiful weekend.

10:35 p.m. After my third caipirinha and the most delicious spinach dip EVER, I start looking around the bar. There's a guy with a skullet (bald head and mullet) looking over at me, a cheesy smile plastered on his forty-something face. I do my best not to gag and smile back politely, quickly turning my attention back to the girls and making sure I never look that way again. I suddenly remember the green eyed guy from the previous night, Edward. I take out my phone from the Blackberry sandwich position it’s currently in and text him.
Annah: You know, I completely forgot about that drink…. Can you forgive me?

Edward: Who is this?

Annah: You know exactly who this is, Annah.

Edward: Oooooh, lady in red, yes. How are you?Annah: I’m well, with some friends in South Beach, about to go home and sleep. There’s work tomorrow.

Edward: So, you went to have drinks without me?! Foul play if I may say so myself.

Annah: Ha ha ha. Let’s make up for it next weekend. What do you think?

Edward: I think we need to go have dinner Wednesday night.

Annah: I think so too.Edward: Pick a place and let’s do this thing.

Annah: I will :) Talk to you soon. Sweet dreams.

11:35 p.m. It’s late and Lola is driving us all home. I feel like I got run over by a train and start to drift into sleep in the backseat of the car. I can feel a small wrinkle growing on my forehead from all this exhaustion, and I vow that next weekend, I’m going to stay home and just watch movies. When I get to my place, I pile on some Oil of Olay wrinkle cream on my face and beg Mikey to leave his beloved teddy bear on the couch and come cuddle in bed with me.
11:50 p.m. I’m in bed now and it’s time to really give it a rest. I hope you had fun. As usual, I had a blast.

12:01 a.m. Lola and I are doing a loser lap at a place called Dicey Riley’s (who chooses these names anyway?) and we settle for a spot right by the bar, in front of the live band. The band is playing some classic rocks tunes and Lola says the lead singer looks like a good time, I say he looks like a greasy mess. Crisco dude has long hair and is wearing a button down shirt that looks like it belongs in a Pirates of the Caribbean set. His chest hair is peeking out the top of the shirt, not sure if this is supposed to be seductive, but I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.