What Goes in Dade
Cultural differences are all well and good, and living in Miami you have to learn to deal with a lot of them. But for the love of Christ (or, as the locals say, Jesus Cristo!) there is some shit that goes on down here that should not be socially acceptable anywhere that flies the American flag. If you are a local, this is shit you are so used to seeing it doesn’t even phase you anymore. Kind of like dead bodies if you live in Jamaica. But for those of you that read this that do not reside in South Florida (because this shit goes on in Broward and parts of Palm Beach County as well) let me be so bold as to hip you to some things that are commonplace here that may not exactly fly in the other 49 states and 64 counties that comprise this great country of ours.
Living at Home - Ladies, you know how when you meet a guy, and you start talking about where he lives, and he is really shady about it. Then you finally get it out of him that he lives at home with his parents and you then inform him that he has about as much chance of sleeping with you as he does with Tyra Banks? Well, in South Florida the question is not so much “So, what part of town do you live in?” but “What part of town do your parents live in?” This is how guys without college degrees who work on commission at the Cingular kiosk at Dolphin Mall can roll around in two-year-old Beamers. With rims. THEY'RE NOT PAYING RENT. And trust me, in Dade a nasty car is way more of a deal breaker than sharing a wall with your mother. It is especially unfortunate when you go out with a girl, especially Latin ones, because her mom is always waiting up for her. And you can never go back to her place. In my old reserve unit in Hialeah, I was one of about five single guys under 30 who did not live at home. And you know what the other four had in common with me? I’ll give you a hint: It had nothing to do with rank.
Renting on Weekends – So you know what the kids from Westchester, Kendall and Sweetwater do since they know there will be no knocking of the boots at Mami and Papi’s house? They’ll rent expensive hotel rooms in South Beach or the Grove for the weekend in which to party and hopefully fornicate. They effectively become tourists in their own city. And they will do this multiple times in a month. So if you break it down, it is probably more expensive then paying actual, you know, rent. But that, my friends is what is known as Dade County Logic.
Dudes driving Jettas – Yes, you read that right – DUDES DRIVING JETTAS. Not that a Baby Blue Saturn is just oozing testosterone, nor am I one to point out effeminate characteristics in any male. But COME ON. A freaking Jetta? I’m sorry, but there are parts of Mississippi where you would be tied to a fence and beaten to death for driving a Jetta. Not so in Dade, my friends, not so. Here, the more you trick out your Jetta, the more nasty, back-tatted Hialeah poon you are going to be getting. I just hope you like girls who wear their name around their neck.
Drinking and Driving – I have touched on this before, and my apologies to any of you who have recently gotten DUI’s in South Florida, but honestly. I went to Saks at lunch today and they had an open bar for whatever reason. Well, my little trip to pick up some of my beloved Kiehl’s pineapple exfoliate (yes, see item #3) turned into an hour and a half of trying on shoes, sunglasses, shirts and whatever else I could find as an excuse to stick around and drink Saks' liquor. Standing next to this open bar, by a jewelry case or something, was a uniformed off-duty Florida State Trooper. Said trooper sat back and watched as I downed six rum and cokes in roughly 90 minutes, took one for the road, and stumbled out to my car. Do you think he even made an attempt to stop me? Saks is paying him time and a half, there's no way he's gonna give up that cush position to get one lousy drunk driver off the road. Absolutely not.
Does this shit happen in Ohio? Orange County? Colorado? DC? New York? Seattle? West Virginia? Boise? San Fran? Charlotte? Boston? Anywhere else that reads my nonsense? Seriously, if you’d told me that living at home , driving a Jetta and renting hotel rooms in the tourist parts of town was all you needed to get laid when I first moved here, I would have thought I’d be swimming in tail by now. But logic in Miami, much like the vast majority of its residents, is completely fucking backwards..