And I mean that in the NICEST way possible.
But, really.
If Manhattan were to plop palm trees in the Meatpacking District, give all the patrons a few extra sessions on their Hollywood Tan accounts, insert something vagualy Latino at any forseeable opportunity, and eliminate anyone who doesn't think Machiavelli is spelled Makaveli, then VIOLA!
It's South Beach! Just add water!
I actually think a little more of the third would be an improvement. I haven't had my fill of Pablos, Carloses or Juans. Really, I haven't. And I think I will continue to surround myself with something vaguely (or outright) Latino for some time to come. If you know what I mean.
At some point when I was itching off skin flakes from my "tan", milking (and I do mean milking) a $16 cocktail, I eyed a crowd of hair-slicked-back-first-second-third (!) button-undone men sitting with a group of push up bras, and thought:
"Where the hell am I?"
If it weren't for the slightly better coke, I'd say Level V!
Rock on Miami.
(I'll call you Pablo)
0 comments:
Post a Comment