Living in a resort town, and this is definitely a resort town, you get to see some rather amusing escapades. No matter what, if you have a chance, come on down for a visit, it can be fun to watch the tourists have their own little slice of heaven.
Sometimes you just want those tourists to go home, back over the river and off the island. Other times you just want them to chill out.
You’ll see what I mean here.
You see last night on our evening dog walk, we took a long lap around town. We walked past Hagen Park and as we neared the Wilton Towers, we saw a commotion. Then the commotion fell out of the building and saw us.
It was one of those laugh out loud then grab the pepper spray moments you sometimes see when someone’s not exactly having a good time managing reality.
Falling out of the main doors of the Wilton Towers was a rather pretty young thing. A brown haired babe, beautiful woman with long hair in a tropical floral style bikini.
Now, if you were out last night with us on the dog walk you’d have thought why is this beautiful woman stumbling out of a tower block of apartments into the cold February chill? This being Wilton Manors, Florida, “cold” is a relative thing, but I think even those in Anchorage Alaska will admit that 64F or so is too cold to be outside on a breezy night with the wind off the ocean.
Nudging Mrs Dog onwards we were entertained. I laughed and that was when her ire was directed at us.
You see, this particular woman, beautiful though she may be, was an unhappy wench. She was most likely “impaired” as she was stumbling around on the darkened street in bare feet screaming more F Bombs than the Germans had dropped on London during the Blitz.
Naughty girl then looked at us and said loud enough so we could hear even if we were a block and a half away “F” You Too!. I mean she was LOUD. Who knew that such a little thing could make that much noise.
Well, she was someone’s baby once, and now she’s all grown up and learning how to party like the big girls.
Wilton Towers is rather close to the South end of Wilton Drive. Between her and traffic was only the laundromat. She’s stumbling her way forward and shrieking F Bombs at everyone, telling them that they can F themselves, and having a great deal of trouble remaining upright. Whatever she was on, it wasn’t alcohol since her F’s were perfectly unslurred.
I turn to Kevin and laugh and say she’s heading for the drive, I hope she doesn’t end up a hood ornament when she disappears around the corner and in front of the Tropics bar.
Thanks to distance, the F’s got quieter so we knew she was still alive. Looking for her we rounded the corner. After all, being entertained by a little babe throwing Fs is one thing, having her come at you, your partner, or your 11 year old dog was entirely another.
When we rounded the corner we were able to see her bikini bottom just disappear into the outside bar of Tropics. Apparently this Floor Show was going to entertain the older gentlemen there.
We took the time to wander up past her and into the City Hall Police Desk and fill in the woman at the desk about our entertainment for the night.
I don’t know how it all ended up, but the person at the desk agreed with a laugh and wrote down the particulars and handled it professionally.
I wonder what kind of fun we’ll see tonight? It’s a Tuesday night so it should be a quiet one, but living in a resort town means that quiet can be a very different thing.