Our Trip to Ft. Lauderdale: Part 2 of 4

     Fort Lauderdale is a posh city, famed for yachting, golf, exclusive communities of mini-islands, hurricanes, and coastal hotels.  It's the third-largest cruise port in the world.  Similar to Californians who use impractical Hummers and Texans who steer gas-guzzling SUVs, Floridians have a penchant for "big rigs" like this...

     In the morning, we drove in Yvonne's Nissan Altima to the neighboring "gayborhood" of Wilton Manors for breakfast at The Alchemist.  I discovered the eatery by searching online.  Despite living for a year there, Yvonne didn't know about it and was thrilled that it was only 5-minutes away.  (Admittedly, she only drives in the opposite direction and doesn't explore her area).  It's worth going to.  

     Featuring a colorful and lush patio, The Alchemist is famous for its proprietary "syphon method" of brewing coffee.  Below, notice the hanging beakers of water over distilling pots, as well as the upside down heat lamps keeping the brew warm.

     While we waited in the queue to place our order, Lewis admired the crafty coffee mugs made of reused materials.

They were made better than the crappy-looking croissants, which looked like blobs of dough (typical across the USA).

     Many eateries provide complimentary dispensers of water, so guests can rehydrate from Florida's heat.

     Seen above, the inside looked unremarkable and lacked sufficient air conditioning (due to the adjoining kitchen and coffee roastery), so we sat outside at a table with an umbrella.

     Our trio (and Dumpling) enjoyed the morning air being blown around by a plethora of fans.  Outdoor speakers played doo-wop music, southern-accented Ray Charles vocals, and swingy Paul Anka tunes.

     We ordered "slicers": fresh baguette made-to-order with toppings of organic ingredients.  Such flavor!  I appreciated our cheerful server who brought the drinks & food out to our table.

     After breakfast, Yvonne drove us around the area for a few hours.  After our local sightseeing, we experienced some "beach time".  Very cool, yet some parts were enjoyably "hot".

     By then, we were hungry for a fresh-seafood lunch at Kelly's Landing.  The restaurant takes advantage of being in a port-city and specializes in New England Seafood.

     As a "no-frills" local spot, the warm-hearted waitresses made everyone feel comfy.  Lewis savored their steamer clams and fried clam strips.  

I loved the lobster roll, with plenty of claw meat.  I only wish that it had been bigger (like I had in Massachusetts and Maine).

We shared sea scallops, crab cakes and fried oysters.

      Feeling content, we returned to Yvonne's place and its communal swimming pool.  Her neighbors were all very nice.  An older couple next door babysat Dumpling, who was fond of their cat.  The cat would come scratch/meow at Yvonne's door when it wanted to play with Dumpling.  How cute!

     While lounging at the pool, Yvonne whined about why she lacked a boyfriend.  Recently, she ended a relationship with her sexy boyfriend, who was also her coworker.  Seen below, she let him generously pay for their vacation to The Maldives (an archipelago-nation that is part of the Commonwealth, headed by Queen Elizabeth) before she broke-up with him.

     Next, she instantly began dating a hunk who was a welder, but that fizzled.  

     We tried to sympathize and give dating tips, but she was content with two new coworkers who were competing for her...

...and one fellow was a married father, but he couldn't control his lust for her...

...and she also enjoyed "mingling" with the typical summertime influx of young men.  

When they depart for college semesters in the autumn, she will prioritize her goals for a new boyfriend.  Hearing that, we encouraged her not to whine: she had blessings.

     Lewis and I also learned that illegal immigrants from Latin America ply for temporary jobs by loitering at Home Depot stores (because greedy/cheap American employers don't want to pay them fair wages or healthcare benefits).  Amidst that muscled testosterone, some guys use the stores and parking lots as a "cruising area" to find same-sex fun with gay, bi-curious, and closeted guys.  But due to America's persistent homophobia and gay-bashing hate-crimes, they created silent signals to advertise the intimacy that they crave. 

     Most of the immigrants come from nations where buying sex is legal (Mexico, Panama, Ecuador, Bolivia, Brazil, Colombia, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Honduras, Argentina, Chile, Paraguay, Peru, Venezuela, Barbados, the Dominican Republic, and El Salvador), so they are confounded by anti-prostitution laws in the USA.  In their homelands, same-sex fun is easy to obtain (Americans are uninformed about how prevalent it is), so they are further frustrated with America's anti-gay sentiments that make it hard to find in public.  

     Floridians often partake in "day drinking".  Lewis and I resisted that urge but finally allowed Yvonne to take us to a famous Friday-night Happy Hour: 4-10pm!  "Muscle jocks", horny office workers, and short-skirted college girls congregate at Tarpon Bend.  

     Even though we arrived early, the place was so full that we could only get a table on the sidewalk.  The humidity made us sweat as much as our cocktails.  A stream of drinkers continuously arrived for the next two hours.  Lewis and I weren't sure why; it wasn't good.  They claim a 2-for-1 drink special during Happy Hour.  Yet, the drinks are small and each probably has half the alcohol content of a real one.  So, it still takes 2 drinks to equal 1.  So, you're really not getting any value.



     The steamed clams were good, and we eventually got a real glass to drink from, instead of plastic cups.  (They said the dishwasher was backlogged).  It's mostly a place for people to show off their physique and their pricey cars (and oversized wristwatches).  

     Speaking of which, we saw a young man rev up his (or his Daddy's) Bentley coupe, only to move it across the street.  Then, as a new wave of women arrived, he revved it up again, merely to re-park it.  Such juvenile tactics.  But they worked on those girls.  We also saw all types of big-wheeled SUVs and Jeeps... the kind I thought were out of style decades ago.  Jeeps without doors.  Dune-buggies.  SUVs with metal studs and under-carriage lighting.  Matt-finish sports cars.  Ferraris.  Customized Mercedes-Benz.  Plenty of money exists, yet beggars wandered the streets and stood at traffic intersections, holding signs at drivers.

     As the sultry air made us feel sticky and the allure of the place wore off, we browsed other eateries along the strip--each bleakly empty on Fridays because of Tarpon Bend.  Returning to Yvonne's always-air-conditioned home, she giddily showed us TV episodes of "Orange Is the New Black" (about America's corrupt prison / judicial system).  We slept soundly and anticipated the promise of drier air in tomorrow's weather forecast.