How crazy is Miami?

When I visited my son and grandson in Huntsville, his partner Heather asked me if Miami was as crazy as it seemed on television shows like Burn Notice.  My reply was that Miami was much different from most cities because of its huge immigrant population, but if one avoided drugs, gangs and other criminality, one could live relatively safely, but that every time I think it can't get any weirder, it does.

Here's an example that happened last week.

During my vacation break, I try to ramp up my exercise program to lose weight.  I had finally gotten back to bicycling the 15-mile round trip from my house to the ocean and back, with a brief dip in a tidal pool to cool off before the return leg.

I go early, so usually I'm the only one at the tidal pool.  I often beat the lifeguards, so I swim at my own risk.  But it's beautiful with the sun rising over the Atlantic, the water calm, only fish and birds stirring.  Maybe a slight breeze rippling among the palm trees.

That day, though, other people were there.  One car was parked in the lot, and a young Latino was sitting on a bench at the entrance to the beach as if waiting for something.  I walked by, said good morning, and went in and leaned my bike against a lifeguard stand.  Took off everything except my swimming trunks and went in.  A young couple was in the water and they were close together in a romantic embrace.  They may have been nude, but they never left the water while I was there.  The woman asked me if I was a lifeguard.  I said no, they don't come for a while yet.

I swam and paddled around for about 20 minutes, but I noticed that the woman kept looking my way, although her companion was entirely focused on her.  As I headed to the lifeguard stand to end my little dip, the guy that had been sitting outside came and asked how much longer they were going to be.  She said something like, "Relax, we'll be a while yet."

Here's what I thought.  The young couple were in love, and the guy was the woman's brother.  When I was a boy, my older sister often used me as a ruse in order to be with a boyfriend.

As I left, I asked the guy waiting outside the beach.  "Are you her brother?"

He said, "Nah, I ain't her brother."

"Well, you're a good friend then to cover for those two lovers."

"Ain't a friend.  She's my ------ [a Spanish word that I didn't recognize].  I pop her all the time.  I'll probably pop her today."

Then I realized that he was a pimp and she was his prostitute, and the John in the tidal pool had probably paid for the "girlfriend experience in the ocean."

I said, "Well, have a nice day," got on my bike and pedaled homeward.

Below are some items related to this blog.