The Weirdness that is Florida
I've noticed a number of very strange things about Florida, since arriving the other day. They include, in no particular order:
--The lack of blondes. I've been to Florida before and seem to remember bunches of blonde women trekking up and down the beach, their bikinis filled out in all the right places and sunglasses covering most of their very bored countenances. Yesterday I think I saw one blonde woman and one or two guys. Where did they all go? Has Clairol been banned? Perhaps it is only because I currently live in a Dutch ghetto where everyone is blonde that I've noticed this phenomenon, but I'm a little freaked out by the whole thing.
--Packs of men wandering free. Living where I live, you never see a single man by himself, unless he's accompanied by a litter of children in a grocery cart. That, apparently, is the only way his wife will allow him to leave the home without her presence, save to go gather her monies in order to allow her access to the local spa. Here, they are everywhere. They're starting to creep me right out. I don't know if there is divorce seminary going on or what. We kept track the other day at the beach. We counted about 15 within a few hours. Totally alone. Wandering aimlessly. Most, apparently, for good reason, judging from the number of inches their guts were hanging over the waistbands of their really poorly cut bathing suits.
--Families of Middle Eastern Origin cooking on the beach. In tents. Enough said.
--The total lack of LaBatt Blue Light. They've got the fully leaded version, but no Light. I'm suffering from withdrawl.
--The complete realization that I'm turning into my mother, in that I'm now eavesdropping on everyone. From 80-year-old men talking about the split in the local utility company to teenage girls buying grams of some presumably-illegal substance. I don't think we've actually spoken to anyone who isn't involved in the service industry, but we're up on all the gossip.
--The lack of anyone really attractive. I don't know if it is where we are in the state, or on the beach, but there really aren't very many attractive folk around here. I suppose, when everyone is stripped down to bathing suit level, there are going to be drawbacks. Hence, my reluctance to even get into one. But, really, this is Florida. You'd think they'd have higher standards. Or an entry exam. Something.
It is 11 a.m. on Sunday and I've got to head off to sun worship on the beach. I woke up from an amazing dream about a guy and a swimming pool that I'm going to see if I can get back into. More from the front later.
--The lack of blondes. I've been to Florida before and seem to remember bunches of blonde women trekking up and down the beach, their bikinis filled out in all the right places and sunglasses covering most of their very bored countenances. Yesterday I think I saw one blonde woman and one or two guys. Where did they all go? Has Clairol been banned? Perhaps it is only because I currently live in a Dutch ghetto where everyone is blonde that I've noticed this phenomenon, but I'm a little freaked out by the whole thing.
--Packs of men wandering free. Living where I live, you never see a single man by himself, unless he's accompanied by a litter of children in a grocery cart. That, apparently, is the only way his wife will allow him to leave the home without her presence, save to go gather her monies in order to allow her access to the local spa. Here, they are everywhere. They're starting to creep me right out. I don't know if there is divorce seminary going on or what. We kept track the other day at the beach. We counted about 15 within a few hours. Totally alone. Wandering aimlessly. Most, apparently, for good reason, judging from the number of inches their guts were hanging over the waistbands of their really poorly cut bathing suits.
--Families of Middle Eastern Origin cooking on the beach. In tents. Enough said.
--The total lack of LaBatt Blue Light. They've got the fully leaded version, but no Light. I'm suffering from withdrawl.
--The complete realization that I'm turning into my mother, in that I'm now eavesdropping on everyone. From 80-year-old men talking about the split in the local utility company to teenage girls buying grams of some presumably-illegal substance. I don't think we've actually spoken to anyone who isn't involved in the service industry, but we're up on all the gossip.
--The lack of anyone really attractive. I don't know if it is where we are in the state, or on the beach, but there really aren't very many attractive folk around here. I suppose, when everyone is stripped down to bathing suit level, there are going to be drawbacks. Hence, my reluctance to even get into one. But, really, this is Florida. You'd think they'd have higher standards. Or an entry exam. Something.
It is 11 a.m. on Sunday and I've got to head off to sun worship on the beach. I woke up from an amazing dream about a guy and a swimming pool that I'm going to see if I can get back into. More from the front later.
posted by Miss Head at
7:43 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home