Saturday, March 20, 2010

Parallel universe

I'm in another world right now.  It looks kind of like Earth, but not the Earth I'm used to seeing.  There are mansions and Bentleys everywhere.  There's a golf course across the street and a Rolls Royce parked outside.  Not my usual scene.  This is the house I'm staying in:

        

There's a lovely courtyard out back.  A great place to lounge around and play with your computer:


                            

I'm in Palm Beach, Florida right now.  I hear you asking, "Hey wanderlust, what the fuck are you doing in Palm Beach?"  The short version of the long story is that I am here visiting my deceased mother's extremely wealthy best friend.  It's the first time we've met.  The reason it's the first time we've met is an even longer story that I won't bore you with right now.  It's been a pretty interesting visit so far.

By some strange cosmic coincidence, my friend Lauren, who I also met as a result of my mother's death, happens to be visiting Palm Beach right now as well.  Her sister (yet another dead Mom connection) saw my facebook page, realized I was here, and told her to call me.  I was delighted to hear from her, and of course we had to go out for drinks.  

She picked me up and off we went to Cucina.  We ordered some booze, sat down at the bar and looked around.  It was like we had entered an alternate reality.  These people are so far out of touch with the real world, they're not even on the same planet.  It was truly surreal.

The funny thing was, it was the exact same scene you can find on any Bourbon Street bar any night of the week.  Men and women on the prowl, people getting shit-hammered and dancing to the same old regurgitated pop tunes people have been dancing to for thirty years.  If I hear Mustang Sally one more time I'm going to jump off the roof of my mother's apartment building, I swear.  It was your usual horrifying scene, except all the women were wearing designer couture and breast implants, and the men were all wearing button down shirts and blazers.  EVERYONE was wearing five hundred dollar shoes.  There was a woman whose lips were so pumped full of collagen she looked like she was balancing two jumbo hot dogs on her chin.  It was unbelievable.

We found the whole thing to be quite entertaining, especially as outsiders looking in.  It's great watching the ridiculously rich make complete asses out of themselves.  Ahh, alcohol.  The great equalizer.  Because rich or poor, drunk is drunk.  It's rarely pretty.  No matter HOW expensive your shoes are...


3 comments:

Barbara said...

I would have loved to see the woman balancing the hot dogs on her chin. That made me laugh out loud. How can they possibly think that looks good?

Fotobloggen 2010 said...

well, seems you have an interesting time there ,-)
I would not mind visiting that house, would be a nice change to all snow and ice in my part of the world right now.

Paula Scott said...

Isn't that the truth! What a surreal experience! And, what tragic lives they have. So shallow and so empty. Interesting connections as a result of your mom. Very Twilight Zonish!