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Reporters Notebook

 

Special Report :   Miami

 

By; Hunter Thomas

                                                           

Where the Alligators Roam

 

Thursday

 

I had been in Miami Beach for less then 24 hours and I already hated the place. Don’t let the advertising fool you! Miami beach is just another tourist trap, hell hole infested with people and establishments whose sole purpose is to drain you of your money and your dignity. Forget the fact that most of the people in Miami look better then you, and that a lot of them are filthy rich and constantly flaunting it in your face, if you don’t have cash, and lots of it, you do not belong here.

 

In an attempt to make the Miami beach area look a bit more appealing, some stupid moron decided that draping the surrounding bridges with neon blue lights would some how present the city a different light. Looks good on TV cop shows, but when the sun comes up and the lights go out, it’s still just a drab cement sprawl that besides the extreme heat and alligators, isn’t really that much different then most of the other cement slabs spread out across America. A new image maybe for the tourism industry, but a new life? Miami is New York City with palm trees.

 

All along the streets of Miami, people walk the ballet of life swinging and a swaying to the, I’m better then you are theme. The people who live here in Miami will tell you the main thing that you need when you come here is lots of cash, a tan, and to begin working out three years before you arrive. On the beach you can spot a non‑local by the sunlight glaring off there winter whitened flesh and the mounds of bloated stomachs that pot mark the beach.. If you look like this, then stay home because there are city codes against looking like a beached whale on Miami Beach and you might just find yourself harpooned and served up in some sheik restaurant as sushi.

 

The image of Miami is enough to support it financially. But that image is extremely deceiving considering the reality of existing here. There are the homeless derelicts, winos, drug dealers and your basic every day low life that pepper the population in most every city around the world. But there are also people who live here that seem to be existing on a level that defies imagination.. For the most part, Miami is crawling with guys dressed in t‑shirts, jeans, Armoni Suits and K‑mart knock offs, all trying to do one thing, and that is to get laid. Problem is that most of the targets of opportunity don’t want to get laid with what they are offering.

 

Friday Morning

 

Off the coast of Miami, I had the misfortune of spending the rest of my day fishing with one of my comrades who decided that this was his way to pay off a gambling debt which he owed me. I had never been deep sea fishing so I accepted the offer gladly and arrived at the dock 4:30 in the morning with plenty of drink and a bottle of sun tan oil. Where in the hell is he going with this, you might be asking by now. There is a point, so please bear with me. 

 

After a few hours of trolling around on beautifully calm open sea, a fish of some sort hit my line like a charging rhino. I grabbed my bent pole and for the next 30 minutes I fought and struggled to bring the fish aboard.

 

Unlike the fishing programs on cable, fishing is a messy business. First you have to cut up the bait, guts and all, put the bait on your hook and catch and then clean your fish. The reality of deep sea fishing is my arms ached and it really wasn’t that much fun. When I finally did get a fish next to the boat the smell of his impending death had attracted a small group of sharks who were tearing away at what was going to be my tuna sandwiches for the next six months. So much for free lunch. The skipper of the boat, honest Abe Fitzgerald, looked down at the sharks that were thrashing about the side of the boat and said

 

" You know, I hate f***ing sharks "

 

And with that he produced a shot gun and started blasting away. Besides the fact that you might be repulsed by this display of human nature, the reality is that you do not discuss politics or animal rights with a drunken sea captain with one leg missing who is feverishly blasting away with a 12 gauge, screaming at the top of his lungs, "God damn son‑of‑a‑bitches, take my leg will you."

 

As the Captain vented his frustrations, I looked down into the bloody water and saw that even as captain Bligh continued to score direct hits on the sharks below, the sharks continued to feed on my fish, and then much to my surprise and disgust, they now started feeding on the victims of the captains revenge as well. It was sick, but it was also an incredible sight, that brings me back to the nature of the people here in Miami.

 

Once the sharks began to feed, the water around them became filled with blood and bits of flesh that excited the other surrounding sharks into a frenzy. And even though they were faced with the prospect of becoming a victim of Captain Fitzgeralds revenge, they continued to gorge on not only the original fish that I had caught, but now on members of their own species who were unfortunate enough to be in the way.

 

Friday Night

                                   

Some of the most beautiful women in the world you will find right here in Miami. Most of those beautiful women here in Miami are not looking for anything not wearing a Rolex and driving a Bentley. The other beautiful women who are in Miami do not have green cards which means that some poor slack jawed yokel who falls under the green card spell of love, will spend the next two or three years riding on an emotional roller coaster that ends up with the beautiful women getting a green card, and the yokel footing the bill and putting a bullet through his broken heart.

 

There are people down here who float around on yachts that cost as much as I could make in three life times. There are people down here who are so rich, that they do not want the rest of us to know how rich they are for fear of being eaten by the poor. The only thing missing in Miami are the Gladiator fights and eunuchs.

 

Saturday

 

Sitting at on the corner of 9th and Ocean blvd at the news café, watching the parade of people who come strolling down ocean Boulevard looking for a piece of ass. Places like Miami are a reflection of the society that we live in. Here there are rules. And the main one is if you don’t have cash, don’t bring your ass. Oh you have your typical over priced drinking holes that you can buy yourself a buzz for sixty or seventy bucks. But if you want to get into one of the nicer establishments be prepared for a rude awakening. First. To get in, you must possess the following. A lot of money, or the impression that you have a lot of money, or the ass of a fashion model stuffed into a pair of designer, size too small jeans. Let’s say for example that you do not have a lot of money and you want to make an impression. Well, you still have to have a lot of money to camouflage the scorch marks of middle class existence.

 

The women here fall into two categories, the ones who have the genetic traits to fill out a Armoni dress and the ones that don’t. Miami can permanently damage your ego, should you not understand the mechanics of how the game works here. First of all a cruel statistic. Ninety‑nine percent of the men who come here do not get laid. Even the ones who are married. Most of the guys who come down here for a few days, end up spending two or three months salary for severe sunburn, alcohol poisoning and the creation of millions of knuckle babies.

 

The women here are ruthless. And I know that I will take a lot of heat for this, but the fact is that a lot of women who come here, come in the hopes of hooking up with the money pipeline that flows through the nightlife of Miami South Beach. What I don’t understand is that if your that rich, then why hang out around this sh** hole. The reason the rich come is the girls who come here to hook up with the cash and the good life. What does this mean for most of the guys who come down here. It means that no matter how much money you spend, you will never even be able to compete with the cash machine that it takes to get a date with one of these girls. You could spend ten years of your salary and still not match what one of these guys will spend on a single evening to get into the pants of a Miami gold digger.

 

It’s 2:30 in the morning and there are still lines outside of most of the Miami beach night clubs. There are also plenty of drunk people wandering aimlessly around, whooping and hollering, eating fast food and throwing up in the streets. Miami beach at 2:30 a.m. in the morning is a mass of people, trash and pools of vomit that the early morning roller bladders have to maneuver around.

 

The police here seem to tolerate this situation pretty well, although while we were here, a cop who was moon lighting as club security did get smashed in the face with a bottle of champagne. The story goes that one of Miami's finest residents decided to toss dollar bills into the air and the patrons of the club began diving for them causing a mini riot. The local news down here, which in its self is a slick image laden montage of news sandwiched in‑between screaming graphics and stiff hair sprayed news personalities, shows a picture of the cop before the smashing of the face and after. Why not just keep the cops out of the clubs so that they don’t get their faces smashed by the patrons who spend a cops yearly salary on a pair of pants for their wardrobe.

 

Some might say that this article might seem a little unfair to the people of Miami. Perhaps. Like everywhere in America this place has it’s good and bad sides, but here in Miami there is a side like no where else in America. If this is what it is like to be rich, then I think I will still try to get rich, but I hope to god that getting rich has a little bit more meaning then what these people decide to do with their money. What a waste...

 

Standing outside looking at the beach, I see two people f***ing in the open and several people leaning over vomiting into the surf. While next to me, a guy who is obviously trying to get into the britches of a girl he some how managed to pick up is listening as the girl exclaims how beautiful the beach is. The next morning, the beach is littered with empty drink containers and used condoms. This is not a beach that you want to bring children to. It is not a place to bring your family.  Miami is a place to get drunk, get f***ed, and then get the f*** out while you still have a sliver of you dignity in tact.