To Miami

Carl and I rose at the crack of 10 and he refused my invite to breakfast.  I went to shower and learned that I left my towel at home so I used a hand cloth to dry myself.  Traffic out of Fayetteville was fine and I got to take in the sights of the south:

  • A realtor offering “free Christian flags”
  • A Walgreen’s selling a “9′ apple pie” at less than 7 cents a square foot
  • A gas station offering a free “bootle of water”, I assume a bootle is a small boot
  • A White’s Motel and Restaurant, thought that was illegal

I-75 into Tampa turned into a parking lot and I lost about an hour seemingly due to the world’s tiniest car accident.  As traffic was at a stand still I started looking into whether Biscayne National Park required any sort of reservations and discovered my second omission of trip, my national park pass.  Traffic flow resumed and I made it to Tampa with great haste meeting Bob Tyler and quickly going to Steak n’ Shake.  His Steak n’ Shake exists at some sort of strangeness nexus ( refers to it as “Florida”) and I lost an hour to stories of a boy that barked like a dog, Bob’s friends’ inability to properly roll up and snap a straw, the subterfuge required to a member of a restaurant wait staff, and finally a Gabe Newell impersonator who manipulated his newspaper quite angrily.  We slammed some cookie-topped brownies and I left for Miami Beach.

Alex and Ashley met me in front of the Bass Museum of Art at around 2:30 AM and I made way to their tiny apartment.