Friday, October 7, 2011

flori-douche

come on...that's funny.
This past weekend, I finally checked the last thing off the checklist to ensure that my Southern card would not be completely revoked- I went to Florida. [Tangent: I know...I know- finding a Tennessean who has never been to Florida is like finding a tolerable Vin Diesel movie. It's hard. Florida is where we as a people tend to migrate once a year. To be clear, I have been to several beaches before (Hawaii, California, NC) but just never Florida. I was never really a "Woo Hoo! SPRING BREAK!!!" kinda gal and my family always went to North Carolina for childhood vacays. Weird, right? I'm a martian to most of my peers.] Overall, I loved the state, the beaches were gorgeous, water was crystalline and the skies were cloudless. Even the overly friendly jellies on the beach couldn't spoil our fun. [Tangent: ...and I know what you are thinking. Yes, someone got stung...and Yes, she got peed on to remedy the skin irritation. Yes, it worked.]
it looks a little unsettling, as a pile of jellyfish should.
 The impetus for the trip was to celebrate my best friend's last month of singleness before her upcoming wedding- so we did all the obvious natural bachelorette activities, which included going "clubbin'" [Tangent: Let's be real. I am not a clubber. I don't dance in the normal grinding/feelin' on ya booty kinda manner. I hate the loud music because I can't hear anyone and vice versa, but sometimes it's a good novelty thing to do...mostly because people watching is my favorite.] Because it's not really my scene, the only times I really get to experience the full boomin' axe body spray scented glory of a club is when I am at a bachelorette party or a birthday or something else where ladies wanna dance and get free drinks. We didn't just pick any run of the mill club, we opted instead for 3 stories of beach side bow chicka bow wow in the form of AJ's Oyster Bar in Destin. [Tangent: They had a live band whose repertoire consisted of C&C Music Factory and an overly uptempo version of that 3 Doors Down song...you know...that one.]  
lots of room for people watching
yes...that's a ramp to a flight of stairs...totally logical.
 I am aware douchebags walk among us daily, no matter our geographical standing, but the Flori-douche is an odd breed of gentleman. He does things like walks by a lady and sticks his finger in her derriere [Tangent: I'm sure many a serious longterm relationship has begun with that move.] or pretends to be on his nextel phone having a phoney conversation while he basically stands 1 cm from your table, whilst obviously looking for a way to foist his way into your conversation [Tangent: Maybe he should have called Time and Temperature or MovieFone like a normal weirdo instead of simply pulling up his call log.] I know douchebags exist in Nashville, I run into them daily but they are not nearly as ballsy as the Flori-douche. 

1 comment:

  1. To paraphrase what Flannery O' Connor says about Southern writers: "we still write about freaks because we can still recognize them".
    Case and point.

    ReplyDelete

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