S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y.... NIGHT!

Should I tell Oma I'm about to go out at 11pm?

My hair smells like cigarettes this morning.  Definitely one (of the many) things I miss about Canada – smoke free establishments!

In the soccer world, this week is known as international break week.  This means all the major leagues in the world take the weekend off as many of their best players re-join their national teams to play World Cup qualifying matches.

In the beIN Sport world, this was known as… WE GET THE WEEKEND OFF!!!

One of the girls I work with, Brittany, is having a birthday next week and soon after it was discovered we all had Saturday night off, her party was planned. 

A night out in Miami for Jer and I?  Holy crap, what do we wear?  That soon became a literal question – WHAT do we wear??  All of our clothes are in a moving truck in Chicago!

Luckily, I have a plethora of party dresses, shoes and accessories to choose from at work… seeing as that is generally my attire on camera.   So I wasn’t worried about me.  I was more concerned about Mr. No Pants at home.

“That’s a lot of pairs of shorts… you’re not packing any jeans or any kind of pants?”

“Terri.  It’s Miami.  I don’t need pants in Miami.”

On Saturday, Jeremy finally needed pants in Miami.  I also discovered he would need a lot more than just pants if he wanted to get into this birthday party.

When I asked about attire requirements (not having a clue what kind of club scene to expect) I was told nice jeans or dress pants, button down shirt, nice shoes.  If you shoe up wearing a t-shirt and sneakers… they’ll turn you away.  Oh boy.

So off we went to the Dolphin Mall, a giant shopping centre about 15 minutes from our place. 

You may not know this about me… but, I am not a fan of shopping.  I don’t mind it when I know exactly what I need to purchase, that way I can get in and get the heck out. 

One really great thing about working weekends… when I’m running errands on my days off in the middle of the week, everyone else is at work.  Needless to say, when we were at the mall on Saturday, so was everybody else in Doral.  And they brought all their screaming kids with them, too.  What a treat!

“Terri, do you remember when we were at Disney World and saw all those parents with looks of pure misery on their faces?”

“Sure, how could one forget the look of someone who has realized they’ve made a horrible mistake in bringing their toddlers to the most sensory stimulating place on earth before the age of 10?  It’s a look that stays with you… and I’m sure with them as well.”

“I’m seeing a lot of those same expressions today…”

We dove right into the sea of people and after resurfacing in Neiman Marcus, Lord & Taylor and some other stores I had never stepped foot in before… we finally found success at Express.

I love this store.  Very hip.  (is ‘Hip’ still hip?  Rad?  Boss?  Yikes.)

Speaking of ‘Boss’… it’s one of the terms Jeremy is getting used to being referred to as.  The gentleman who set him up in a dressing room, “Right this way, Boss”,  “How are those pants fitting, Boss?”,  “You didn’t bring a single pair of pants with you to Miami?  What’s wrong with you, Boss?”

Jeremy was set up with a sweet turquoise checkered shirt, tie, dress pants and a belt.  He sure looks ‘schmuck’, wouldn’t you agree?

My legs are really longer than they appear here...

I almost had him convinced to get the red skinny pants… but that will take a little more work on my part.  Don’t you worry, Jeremy will own colorful pants before Christmas.  It’s one of my missions.

Oh, and the people at Express were so nice to steam the clothes for us, too.  Seeing as our iron and ironing board are in transit along with our furniture and Jeremy’s pants.

One pair of shoes and socks later, we were on our way out of the mall.  But wait. 

One final detail not to be overlooked - Jeremy’s overgrown mane had to be dealt with once and for all!  Finding a new hair stylist is never fun.  Luckily, I found a good one last week, so we drove over to Rafe Lugo Salon to see if anyone had time to trim up Jer.  A very nice and stylish gentleman did.    We never did get his name… or more than 5 words out of him.

“How would you like it?”

Jer automatically turns to me, “How would YOU like it?” 

Pfff, I don’t know!  So I suggested the hair stylist have at it and do whatever he wanted.  Why not, eh? (Jay & Dan podcast reference… if you haven’t been listening to it, what’s the hold up?)

A little off the top.

He didn’t come out bald, he didn’t come out with a mullet… a nice ‘do’ to go with his nice new wardrobe.

We’re ready to go.  But wait.

It’s only 7pm.  We have 4 hours before this party starts.  So we did what any couple at our age would do to pass the time on a Saturday night… oh yeah, that’s right.

We took a nap.

Feeling refreshed, we got ready to go and by 11pm we were heading out.  My Oma would not approve of me going out that late.  But alas, I had a smartly dressed husband at my side.  Ready to tackle the night!

Still pasty white despite the beachy weather

Using the trusty Garmin, we found our location about 20 minutes from our house in what is referred to as Miami’s Design District.  I’ve been told this was a sketchy part of town up until a number of years ago… and slowly, it has been undergoing change with upscale businesses and shops moving in, art galleries, cafes and night clubs.

Gavanna was the place, apparently an up-and-coming club that is hard to get into.  Luckily, we were ‘on the list’ for the birthday girl.  But, as we arrived, we realized, there was no line, and basically no need for any kind of list.  The men sitting at the Valet stand looked terribly bored and as we entered this ‘hotspot’ we noticed, so were the bartenders.  Not that you could see anyone, the fog machines were set to overdrive.  But, save for the people attending the birthday party, the place was basically empty! 

That is, until midnight hit.  Then suddenly it was this.

And this.

And a whole lotta this going around.

Talk about sensory overload!  Blasting bass, jumping people and rapidly flashing lights enough to give you a seizure.

Please stop strobing!  I can't see!

People pressed up against people.  And dancing, dancing, dancing.  If you don’t dance and you move to a Latin American city… get ready to give in to the beats, because you will dance, dammit.  You will also pay through the nose for drinks… 2 gin & tonics = $30!  Jeremy handed the bartender a $20 expecting to get change back… instead had to go back to the wallet.

Can you see us through the fog?

Constant grooving and singing and laughing.  We had loads of fun!  I will never understand the need to make a slow song from Adele a full-on dance party, though.  I will also never understand what these heavily accented people I work with are saying to me in a loud club.

These places don’t shut down until 4 or 5 in the morning… but we took off around 2:30pm.  The exterior of this club looked a lot different at this point… there was a massive crowd of people eager to get in to the already over capacity building.  The Valet guys were busy parking the BMWs, Mercedes and Porsches.  Our little Mazda 3 was parked down the street… where WE left it. 

So off we went…and promptly hit up a Wendy’s before retiring for the evening.  Two ¼ lb singles with cheese, please.

The gentleman who handed us our burgers through the drive-thru window, “Here you go, Chief.”

Really?