Let’s say you’re in a golf cart with a drunk Floridian man with slightly grayed hair, brown leather skin, and he’s excitedly telling you about the young women who’ve regretted waking up with him. His driving doesn’t seem to be affected by the drink. He presumably does all of his driving while drinking, probably only spends a few minutes a day away from the bottle. Maybe he wakes up and admires some girl who’s sure to be hungover soon, walks to his bar and mixes a Bloody Mary, hides his valuables if he has any, then goes to walk along the beach, or maybe take his golf cart to whatever bar he frequents. You hope he’s kind enough not to make this poor girl witness him. Or maybe she should see what she gets herself into by drinking too much. Something led her there.
Anyways, now you’re riding with him. You’ve been to three bars tonight and only met one or two semi-interesting persons. All you’ve seen in Ft. Lauderdale are women paid to wear skimpy outfits in an attempt to usher you into their bar and grey-haired men flirting with them. You walk past the girl in the thing and try to shake the feeling that you’re doing this all wrong.
You stop for pizza and your friends attempt to chat up some girls outside the place. They’re waiting to meet someone. No one seems to go out to meet new people. You guess the old man must have run off to buy another pint of vodka but the cart is still sitting there. In how many cities could a scene like this play out? You wonder how to inscribe meaning to it all. Maybe you should have drunk more to stop the wondering.
Do you smoke cigarettes? Do you chat up ladies in bars? Do you sit at home and watch netflix every Friday? Or maybe just play video games. Or an old school board game party?
Whatever you do, I hope it does you well. I hope you don’t find yourself in a golf cart with a drunk man yelling at young girls. I’m not saying it’s not fun. The drunk man may be unsettling but he is wild and entertaining. He’s happy as an alcoholic can be. You could claim the front seat and feel the wind in your hair, shout your own wind out to remember that you’re alive and infinite and all that living goodness. It’s a euphoria. But it’s not the ultimate. It’s just another stepping stone.
So whatever you’re doing on a Saturday night, I hope you’ve thought about it, I hope it’s taking you somewhere, and I hope it’s somewhere you want to go.
Greetings from under the sunshine.