June 29, 2013

           Tourists walking past kept saying I was standing behind the wrong pirate sign. But I checked three times and it definitely says “Ft. Meyers Beach”. What was it with those people? Can’t they read? Welcome to the gulf coast of Florida. Much prettier than the Atlantic side but it took me fourteen years to find that out. The water is murkier but warmer and the average age is about half. This is Saturday morning in the downtown area, totally dedicated to seasonal operations.
           My loyalty knows no bounds, as we headed back down Gator Alley to get me home in time for bingo. Which was very successful, by the way. By Saturday morning we were old hands a Ft. Meyers Beach, having been all over place enough to go everywhere and do everything. I find out to my great surprise, this is the first time in his life JZ has partied out with no family, just piled in the vehicle and got out of Dodge. I say again, that really surprised me but, well, that doesn’t surprise me.
           Everything he wanted to do was family-oriented whereas I have not a molecule of that attitude in my constitution. JZ, you can go bowling in your next life, we are heading straight to the beach, oil spills or not. I am not happy to report that all the seafood available was not allowed on my diet. But JZ made up for it!
           It is day three, we are favorites of the hotel staff, the tiki bar knows us by name, the band has let us jam, the local 7-11 will sell us one bag of popcorn. Our schedule matched the tide, I had hit on every available gal in town and JZ had sat there and watched me do it. I have no fear of rejection. On Thursday night, it was a phenomena to see me hit on every gal in the place while all the big boy jock types sat there being cool, flexing muscles and getting nowhere. We bought a round for every gal that walked in the place by herself.

           JZ went after two gals I told him were sending me warning signals. Sure enough, they were off-duty strip…… er, I mean “exotic” dancers. I’ve had to explain to JZ so many times that we don’t have to be the best in the world, just the best in the place we are at the moment, so we don’t have to chase the women in the business of sex. He always forgets over time, but we were the bachelors to meet at the Lani Kai on 2013-06-28. Note the hotel charges by the person, same price each. So rent two rooms.
           By how it happened we got there right before the big summer weekend of July 4th, and the early party crowd was already showing up. The town was full of pretty women, the main reason we stopped there. The said far younger crowd makes the Miami side one area I advise you not to even bother with. We drove up to Cape Coral on the advice of a thrift store owner, but never could find the character part of town. A town, I would point out, that is 99.999% the right kind of people. I didn’t say that, I said the right kind.
           Of course, I hit all the book stores in town while JZ stopped for a bite to eat. The largest one, and first time I’ve seen this, is the Goodwill on San Carlos for books only. Thousands of them. But only one textbook, which I bought. Like the new Barnes, it reflects the decaying mental capacity of the last couple of American generations. The entire history, science, and for that matter anything academic section was one shelf in the left wing, behind the cookbooks and astrology.

           Here is a picture that would normally not appear in this PG13 blog. But it took thirty-five shots posing with the tripod to get just the right composition that I decided the world could use a laugh. I call this picture “White Boy Tourist”. When you see it.
           [Author’s note: Whenever JZ pointed at some particularly pretty or sexy gal, I made it a point to bring her over to talk with him. Then came the ultimate score. There were two perfect-bodied blondes in the water. Every guy on the beach was watering at the mouth. I walked out of the hotel and right over to them. Sorry all you jock heroes, this is not BS, an entire hotel full of people saw it. No pictures. I had them waving at JZ and splashing water, but damn, they were slightly underage. However, world, THAT is the difference between me and any, repeat any, douchebag who says I can’t get the women. That bunch is totally missing the point, as usual. But not the point they are being called douchebags.]