October 28, 2011

           That’s me making a pot of tea. I’m reminded why I fancy playing town and not on the road. I had a half-day of chasing around over the trip this afternoon to Miami. Extra bingo cards, pack the overnight kit, which although infinitely better than working for a living, is just enough to make sure you don’t get the day entirely off either. Some people can go the beach in the afternoon when they have to make an evening appointment, but myself, I can’t relax like I should knowing I’d better keep an eye on the clock. Or get towed.
           This partially explains why I appear to be a morning person. If you make a big breakfast and get the work done, then it is easier to take the remainder of the day off. I’ve got to deliver the bingo gear to the auditorium by 6:00 PM, so I didn’t dare even take a siesta on this unusually warm Fall day. Or even eat because I’m invited for the festival dinner. Instead, all I had was rice with that orange Spanish “adobo” spice that alters the flavor as much as the equivalent amount of food coloring.

           Did I check my “professional” dating site? Yep, and it is a dog. I’ve never seen so many 39 year old women in one place since I left the phone company. The women are terrified to make the first move because the men are the commonest mob of commoners you’re ever going to find short of attending a political convention. They have this weird system of declaring each other “friends”, but it backfires because each person always has too few or too many. Although I did find one lady claiming a Masters degree (unconfirmed), there are no professionals at all.
           Am I using the wrong site, or are the pickings any better at a paid site? There’s no yardstick here. I know of no way to differentiate between a good service and a bad one, except of course the one that gets me some dates that aren’t leftovers would be a good one. I have the fondest memories of Thailand, it’s too bad it isn’t there anymore. No, it isn’t, and I know what I’m talking about. Maybe one day I’ll return, since Club Med can’t have polluted every shore and beach with their riff-raff clientele. (I was to learn later that "professional" dating sites are just another come-on.)

           I took Ocean Drive to Miami while still daylight. The tourists are back, but the nicer spots are just a little too far to drive from here by scooter. That means around 15 miles. We have a beach here but it draws a far older crowd. The action, as it were, appears to have shifted north from Miami Beach to the hotel areas with beaches that cater to their own clientele. Miami Beach proper is almost exclusively confused weirdos. Demanding their rights.

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