Exit Row, Power Outage, Calle Ocho, Delano

I got the exit row this morning so I knew that the day was off to a good start already. Not just any exit row seat either. This was row nine on a 757 which means that it's essentially the biggest row on the plane. Other than the special features of the first class seats with their 14 movable parts (head rest, triple jointed leg support, foot extension, etc.) this is the best seat/row on the plane. Who needs food, champagne and cookies and milk anyway? (I do, says my little voice...meekly, from way down deep inside). I packed at the last minute so I needed to stretch out and try to catch up on some Z's. No reading, no music, no movie watching. Just Z's. Unfortunately, my back was hurting and 5 hours is a long time, so I did wake up with about an hour left. At least I hadn't drooled or snored so loud that I woke myself up, which is more than the guy in 10C could say. With about 30 minutes to go, we had some of the worst turbulence that I've experienced in a number of years. At least we got a heads up on it though as the pilot told us that there was a storm up ahead in our path.

This storm must've had something to do with the power outage that I would come to learn about once a TV screen showing CNN was in plain view in terminal D at Miami International. As only CNN can, they made it look like the sky had fallen or that major devastation had occurred with BREAKING NEWS in big bold print and the helicopter shots to make it seem super widespread. MAJOR POWER OUTAGE IN FLORIDA is what it said. I thought for sure that I would get out of the airport and be caught in the grid-lock to end all grid-lock as folks wouldn't be able to figure out how to negotiate the city streets without the lights. I thought about when I landed in Honolulu last year and there was a traffic mis-hap that essentially closed the only freeway, bringing the Waikiki area to a virtual standstill. Luckily I had some very exceptional people watching to distract me as I waited 40 minutes for my luggage. If there were such a category among the world's airports, this place would have to be the perennial champion. More on people watching later.

Once out of the airport I rode the Hertz shuttle to their lot to discover that my name was nowhere to be found on the big #1 Club Gold board. Adding insult to injury, there was a long line at the counter and the 85 degrees and humidity was beginning to take its toll. To their credit, the folks at this Hertz counter were a veritable picture of efficiency and I was at the front in no time. They no longer had the full-size that I had reserved available, but you know its a good day when the guy asks you the following question:

"Would you like a Hummer H3 for the same price?"

Hummer? Me? Oh no? Please give me the Geo Metro instead. So, as I was driving away in the Hummer listening to Back Spin 43 on the Sirius Satellite radio...


I had no idea where I was going. Well, that's not totally true. I knew I was heading in the general vicinity of downtown, but with no navigation system I was not sure, so I did it the old fashioned way. I read street signs and spread out a map across the steering wheel as I drove past the Flagler Dog Track. I'm always fascinated by the Dog Track. I don't know why, but I just am. I've never been to one, but it just seems like it's a couple rungs down from the horse track and the solid citizens that usually frequent it. One of these days I'll actually test this theory, but not today. I was hungry now. I hadn't eaten since the 615am breakfast burrito that I devoured while enduring questions from a nervous traveler.

Nervous Traveler: Do they serve food on the plane?
Me: No (first nodding as I finished chewing and then verbalizing as I swallowed that bite). They may have something that you can purchase, but otherwise you have to be in first class.

NT: Oh. (Thinking. You could literally see the wheels turning). Well, do you think there's an ATM machine somewhere else over here?

Me: Yeah, there's actually one just beyond the Admiral's Club by gate 62, just over there (pointing).

NT: Oh. (Wheels really turning now) Well, I guess I'll try that.
Me: (Smile)

This poor lady was clearly overwhelmed by the whole traveling thing. When it was time to board, she made the mistake of asking the lady if her bag was okay as a carry-on. Rookie move. With all the sympathy of a minimum wage worker closing a store 5 minutes early despite your protests as they peer through the glass at you, expressionless as they turn the sign to CLOSED, the American Airlines gate agent told her, "No...that's not going to work, you have to check it", sending her into a panic and setting off a futile argument. The next time I looked up, she was in the middle of the floor trying to move some of the items in her big bag into her other carry-on.

NT: What should I do?
Me: Play dumb...and get here first...like this guy(Gesturing to a guy next to her in line, holding an even bigger bag)
NT: Oh (puzzled look, wheels turning again)

My nervous traveling friend tried to start up the small talk 3 more times that day (walking past me after i had already nestled into my seat during the boarding process, at baggage claim when I was distracted by other things, and again at the Hertz counter). I'm just glad I didn't have to sit by her since she definitely would've talked my ear off. (See my "Chatterbox" post from 2/7/08)

I was heading down 37th Avenue when I crossed the intersection for 8th Street. Eighth Street!?? EIGHTH STREET! Yes, Calle Ocho.

I made a u-turn and found my way back to 8th street, AKA Little Havana. I had heard of this street and had even eaten at other restaurants bearing the name (i.e. Calle Ocho on 82nd/Columbus in NYC),so I was all over this. I promptly pulled the Hummer into La Carreta and prepared to eat. I'm a big fan of La Carreta, often walking clear across the Miami Airport to eat there, so I was excited about eating at the real deal outside of the airport for once. Wearing my white sweatsuit and getting out of the H3, I got lots of stares so I tried to keep a straight face. Once inside I was promptly seated and before long was sipping on a Guanabana shake. I love it how people in Miami speak Spanish first, just assuming you'll understand. Luckily, I did and was able to communicate my order. Arroz Imperial is what I decided on over the myriad of Cuban sandwiches. Garnished with platanos and a salad, it was just the snack I needed to come back to life. I finally made it to my South Beach hotel and marveled at the scenery around here. It's like Rodeo Drive meets Venice Beach, but with prettier people and better weather.

My cousin came by a little later and we went for tapas at a place called Cafe Nuvo. There's nothing like sitting outside at 10pm in February and enjoying some apertivos. No heating lamps or anything. It was still about 70 degrees. The last stop of the evening was the hallowed Delano Hotel which was about as hard to get into as any New York or L.A. nightclub. Even hotel guests were getting the third degree. It was soooo the see and be seen spot in South Beach on a Tuesday night. Luckily, my cousin new a guy at the door, so we got special treatment and were led beyond the velvet rope as the envious masses looked on.

Apparently, this place is where the professional partyers hang out, and they don't do it cheaply. Everything was a wash of white linen, but unlike the requisite themed party in California, this was just what they do. It really looked like somebody's music video up in there, complete with musical artists to boot (I was sitting at the table over from Joe...yeah...All the things your man won't do Joe). He was flanked by an entourage of cats with oversized dark sunglasses that were enjoying the fact that a half dozen scantily clad women were all up in his face. At one point, we were trying to figure out who sang a certain song that the DJ was playing and one of my cousin's friends said, "I believe this is by Joe," to which I replied, "Him?", gesturing to the next table. He looked and said,"that's not Joe, that just some guy that...oh..wait..it is Joe."

I had had enough of this scene well before it would be closing, so we called it a night. We walked out around 2am and folks were still arriving while the line to get in was still snaked back through the parking lot. Did I mention it's Tuesday?