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...