No More Bread Lines
One interesting result of the total loss of power (even the highly touted "emergency grid" of police headquarters went down) was that the bakeries were able to open immediately with their gas ovens and limited need for electrically-generated exhaust fans. Late Monday afternoon polite lines started to form at the many French bakeries on South Beach; I remember thinking Tuesday morning, while sitting on the seawall, that the warm ham and cheese croissant I was nibbling on, but mostly feeding KiKi, was a delight.
Yesterday, with the exception of The Palace, life was back to normal. It was sunny, warm, and dry and all the outdoor restaurants were packed; the police had lifted the ban on non-residents crossing the bridges. With Miami still in darkness and 90% of South Beach blazing in light, the mainland streamed to The Beach for dining and amusement. I had breakfast with Brian and his friend Moses, joined up with Peter (du Barry) for cocktails, and then Brian joined us for a trip up to Lincoln Road for a long dinner of trading stories from New England. Brian had said all he wanted to do was eat, drink, and laugh; he got what he wanted many times over. But, he wanted more.
Brian wanted to see Twist's exotic dancers. That's my term for them; Brian calls them strippers and many others, "dick dancers", but that is so lewd. So we all took a power nap (this was 9PM). I woke up at midnight, pondered the appropriateness of doing it and immediately jumped in the shower. We met up at 1AM in The Bungalow Bar building at Twist and started to giggle with glee at the talent before us. We had many favorites, but--as always-- Hugo won the contest (he was the one hugging me on Turnabout night). Hugo demonstrated some of his most exotic dance steps for the two of us, although "steps" might be questioned as I don't recall his feet ever leaving the floor. Nevertheless, it was an exciting performance which both of us applauded with many dollar bills. Satiated (my "exotic" limit is quickly reached), I left the madness and prepared for a long Sunday. Brian "thinks" he closed the place.
posted by Alexis du Bois @ 1:03 PM
5 Comments:
two things:
1. i really think KiKi should have his own blog, everything written of course, from a dog's perspective. or at least a post.
2. mrs astor, will you dick dance for me?
xo!
ps. i'm glad "this letter" finds you are safe in the arms of hugo.
I´m with bees on the dickdance!!
i luv ya
1. Ms. Bees, you are the condradiction of our time. Yes, KiKi is planning to plog; I caught him at a pensive moment yesterday as he was trying to fully describe how to be a dancer and--at the same time--being taken seriously.
2. No, that wouldn't be very stately, would it? I can picture Ed Grow, though, right out there; even, I can see a fleshy, hunpy Mikevil. But not me, Ms. Bees; I'm more the applauder than the performer.
But thanks for thinking of me.
God, where is my proofreader? My fingers type faster than I can spell. Shut!
Uncle Alexis,
I am so happy to hear of the fun and debauchery you are partaking in with Cousin Brian! Being able to talk to you on the phone was like a mini-reunion. Like you said, if we could only get Ian on the phone at the same time, it would be a full blown family reunion. Actually, it will be a full blown family reunion when we are all there together! :-) In the mean time, stay safe and happy, await my arrival, and make sure Cousin Brian doesn't get *TOO* close to those "Dick Dancers" (I hear they bite).
Love Always,
Nephew Jesse :-)
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