Friday, 11 June 2010

The Florida Diaries, part 2

BUUURRRRPPPP! Cor. Sorry. Just had a Rustlers.

Right. More on my travels in Florida, news of which, I know, excites you more than Madonna in an orphanage for Hispanic male models.

As I mentioned, my route to Florida was a little more complicated than I would have preferred. In total, I spent 140 hours in the air. And after a journey like that, a marketing guru and envelope-pushing ideas-doctor like me needs sustenance.

Imagine my delight, then, on finding this beautiful (well, you know - not beautiful but...sort of...fat and nice) woman at a place I spotted as the cab driver whisked me from the airport to 'anywhere with a bed and access to porn'.

Seeing a sign inside reading 'We serve burgers for breakfast' was a joy mixed with surprise - like finally banging that bird you've been after for months and finding a fiver tucked behind her ear.

I asked for burgers, many burgers, and they did indeed serve burgers for breakfast. I stopped eating them when they ran out of meat.

Refreshed, refuelled and ready to go, I went straight to a hotel, checked in and made ready to find out what Florida has to offer. Then I had a snooze, for about a day, and woke up all squashed between the bed and the bathroom door, and then I went out.

Strolling down the road, I quickly noticed that America is quite big. Nothing is particularly close to anything else. So, after walking in 35-degree heat for two hours and reaching nothing more than deserted petrol stations and the houses of people with more ears than teeth, I concluded I should hire a car.

Two days later, I'd done exactly that. (I got slightly waylaid by a trip to a very nice bar called Paynted Laydeez. Honestly - they really do the service industries much better than us, the Yanks. They could not have been more accommodating, those girls. It was almost moving.)

Behind the wheel of my 4x4 (although it was big enough to be more like a 7x7, or even a 9x9) I began to explore. I travelled beyond the tourist traps and obvious theme park attractions - off the track so well beaten by my countrymen - and rambled freely through the undiscovered towns and communities that make up the real heartland of America.

It was fucking awful. Have you seen these people? Jesus wept. The knuckle-shaped foreheads, the ball-park bellies, the ironic-but-not-ironic hair. I think - I mean, I really think - that this is a different species. It's a devolution. At some point, human beings in that part of the world started regressing, genetically. Eventually, they'll turn into plants. Big fucking fat ones. And this is me talking - someone who's worked extensively with advertising agencies.

So, I headed back to Paynted Laydeez where I met the delightful Kelly-Ann-Marie-Jo (shown above in a whimsical T-shirt I bought her). We became something of an item during my stay and, in a small way, she helped me heal some of the wounds left me by that soulless bitch, boiler and ballbag, Cutella.

I didn't just stay at Paynted Laydeez, though! They don't do food, so I had to leave to eat. I'll be filing a couple more restaurant reviews in the coming days, as well as a description of a meal I enjoyed in the home of a real American family. I think they enjoyed my company a lot! But who wouldn't?

You will surely tune in.


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