Thursday, February 4, 2016

     We wanted to go to a restaurant that we could look back on and always have it remind us of this beautiful, quirky place, South Beach, Florida. Mr. Wonderful chose Joe’s Stone Crab House.I didn’t like the sounds of it, but it’s supposedly an institution here. Well, that’s exactly what it looked like. Our table was in a cozy corner of what felt like a used car showroom or maybe a prison cafeteria. The lights were blinding, the noise deafening, and the food mediocre at best. I tried to stay cheerful, diving into the forbidden deep dish apple pie a la mode (which I never ever allow myself), but that didn’t numb the shock of the $120 bill (sans alcohol). We could have eaten a modest meal on the cozy garden terrace at the front of the building, but Mr. Wonderful was too hungry. His comment on his meal choice:  “no taste.” Lovely. I was doing fine, until he allowed me to get pissy about paying so much for the meal. Then to add insult to injury, the man said he could not process my credit card as I hadn’t signed it. I said, “Well, I’m sorry, but I left my wallet at the hotel, so I don’t know what to tell you.” He came back with four different pens so I could sign my slippery card and pay him the exorbitant fee for crap. Oh, my.

     Once out into the beautiful balmy evening, I was even more furious that the cost for crap was not leaving a memorable experience in my mind. I tried to be mature and chalk it up to bad decision-making, but that wasn’t working for me. We got back to the hotel at 8:15 p.m. after passing by several romantic-looking restaurants with soft guitars strumming in the background. Now I was really annoyed. 

     Mr. Wonderful had just the ticket:  “Let’s go to CVS and buy you that lipstick you need.” Now that was the cure all right. We walked down several blocks (in my highest stilettos), past street people, transvestites, loud tourists and run-down stores to land in an enormous CVS. I headed right to my lipstick and paid $8.99 for it (it’s $4.99 at Target). That really cheered me up. Actually, it distracted my mind which is what I need to do when I’m being a brat.

     We got back to the hotel, blistered feet and mouth now in a half-pout. The Bernie Madoff movie was on, so the mind distracting continued until I fell into a deep slumber at 9:47 p.m.

     The good news is that Mr. Wonderful was so desperate to make up for the evening, he agreed to give up his umpteenth jaunt to the Everglades to do a vigorous beach walk with the Queen here on the island. Yay, brat.