Virtual Gypsyz

I am drawn in by his descriptions of the club scene - the “touch-and-go” culture (what we know as “one night stands”).

He says as a result the women are very hard. There are special club nights after a day at the office where everyone gets drunk and hooks up.

“Do they hook up right there or do they get a room?” I ask.

“Oh…well, if you want to get into gory detail…I guess they get a room since most young people still live with their families. It’s too expensive in Miami Beach for young, single people to get their own places.”

“So cars, hotel rooms, other people’s homes…”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

We talk about the culture of Miami Beach. As soon as you get off the plane you feel like you’re in Europe. It isn’t really part of the U.S., he explains, and it’s easier to get around on a motor scooter. I fantasize about being an Urban Mermaid riding on the back of his scooter, my arms wrapped around him, nuzzling my nose into the back of his neck that smells of…what is that smellllll????? It’s driving me nuts! My salad is good, but I want to eat HIM! Ugh!

Our interview officially over, the conversation circles back to me.

“What brought you to Miami Beach?” he asks.

“Oh. Um. Well, I met this Virtual Gypsy on the back of a bus in San Francisco and we traveled to Mexico City, to Puerto Rico, to Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala and then landed here.”

The Manu Chao song playing in the restaurant seems to get louder.

Que hora son mi corazon
Que hora son mi corazon

The shark doesn’t seem to hear the music. Perhaps his heart is hardened too.  He takes a swig of his beer in a way I felt I’d seen before in some other place, in some other T-I-M-E.

“It’s really a tragic story. But, well…I was a socialist. And I became a capitalist.”