Since I’m anticipating a crazy weekend in South Beach, I’d thought it would be fun to recycle an old post from Amy in Miami.
Living in Sobe: Letters from Amy
June 26, 2007
One of the great things about living on the 5th story of a South Beach building, is being able to hear all of the happenings on the street below. When I sleep with the balcony door open, not only do I get hit with the ocean breeze, but I’m also privy to early morning drunken screaming matches, as well as other lively conversations. For this I would like to send a note of thanks, as well as some advice, to the following people:
Dear Vanessa,
I’m sorry that your friend, Jessica, made you cry. That really sucks. Especially at 4:47 on a Wednesday morning. I think the first time she asked, or maybe I should say screamed, “Give me my shit, so I can leave.” you probably should have given her her shit. Instead, you tried to exhibit some tough love, and would not agree to turn over her shit, until she heard you out. I appreciate that you wanted to be heard, but believe me, the only one who was heard was Jessica, for at least 15 minutes. Vanessa, I think next time Jessica asks you to get her some ‘shit’, it might be a good idea to just say no.
Sincerely,
Amy
Dear Darrell,
Because you are a city worker, I really do appreciate that you and co-workers are so bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6:30 a.m., as you sweep up the garbage on my street. Not only do you keep our streets clean, but you also do a great job of waking the neighborhood up. Really, it’s no biggie. I didn’t really need that extra 30 minutes of sleep anyhow. What I envy about you is the constant amusement and joy that you get out of your co-workers. Everything they say, you find hysterically funny. Not only do you scream and slap you knee, but I could swear that you’ve actually fallen down on the sidewalk because you’re laughing so hard. Another talent you have is the effective communication you have with your co-workers. Even when working on opposite sides of the street, you still keep the conversation and jokes flowing. Sometimes from half a block away, which is quite impressive. Even though I have early morning fantasies about lobbing a water balloon at your head, you do seem like an alright guy.
Keep On Laughin’,
Amy
Dear Bro,
What the fuck, dude? Where did you leave your fucking car? I have lost my car countless times in the parking garage at Aventura Mall, so I understand your frustration. Though, I have never stood in the middle of the street and screamed, “FUCK.” I usually just wandered around the garage, clicking the alarm. I figure either you don’t have an alarm, or you’re probably exhausted, having been at the bar until closing time at 5 a.m. . Usually around 5:17 a.m., you realize that you didn’t lose your car, but it’s been towed because you parked it underneath my building, where is says “No Parking Without Permit.” Bro, my advice to you would be to READ THE FUCKING SIGN BEFORE YOU PARK, or maybe stick with a bar that’s within walking distance to your crib.
Peace Out,
Amy
