Miami Wise

My plane landed about 4 hours ago, a smooth flight from Miami Beach where I spent the last 4 days. October in Miami Breach is where an annual Fuel Oil/Energy Byers Conference happens (you can Google it).

The conference, which I and 6 of my colleagues went to, is an excuse for people from the oil industry (specifically fuel oil) to wine and dine for about 3-4 days, reestablish some business contacts, create some new contacts, bring their wives shopping, or leave their wives at home and visit a striptease club or two.

I have never been to Florida before, and the feeling could only compare to a kid in a candy shop. At the sight of the first palm tree on Miami Internatioanl Airport, an immense happiness came over me (without even a drop of liquor in me). In the cab to the hotel I removed my coat and two layers of sweaters, and rolled down the window.

Besides the obligatory schmoozing with potential clients, the trip was a nice little break from the stuffy New York office, which somewhat compensates for the miserable 5 work days vacation time I get the first year with the company.

The location - Miami Beach in October - provides perfect mid-80's weather, golfing, gorgeous beaches, and latino/caribbean/tropical themed clubs. Of course I am aware of the excruciating heat and humidity in the summer, the hurricanes, sharks, alligators, and Russian tourists, but I was lucky enough not to experience any of these disasters. Except for the pesky presentations and receptions, which were cutting in my laying on the beach time, I had some easy-going time.

Two of the 3 receptions I went to, hosted by renowned energy companies, were held in steak houses. The most popular choice on the menu - a 32 oz steak and a 7 layer chocolate cake. Nobody around me could finish their steak (and I'm talking guys with daily steak eating experience). What a waste of perfectly good meat that was.

Ocean Drive is where everything comes down -- the beach strip is full of tourists this time of the year, and at night time it turns into a flashy art-deco/latin festival. Convertibles parade slowly along the club infested Ocean Drive. Half naked big-breasted ladies and gay-looking buffed gentlemen walk about. Clubs, with their doors wide open, pump Latino music in the air.

One of the company gatherings was held at a jumping Latino place with a fruity name - Mango. Mango waitresses were sporting hip hugging low-cut, leopard skin imitation pants and something that looked like sports bra in the same leopard skin fashion. One of them, accompanied by a hunky guy, dressed in a similar ansamble were provocatively dancing samba on the top of the circle, pink, neon-lit bar.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw a homeless guy on Ocean Drive - somebody needs to tell this person he spoils the touristy image of the strip, and perhaps style his long beard, or put him on a work-out program. I thought that New York homeless people should be shipped to Miami Beach for the winter. The weather is great for sleeping outside (except for the occasional rains), and there seems to be an abundance of half-eaten steaks around.

And not to end on socially conscious propagandish way .. I did enjoy my steak and the time on the beach.