Of all vacations with friends to date, this has got to be the one that was the most fun yet bizarre and utterly exhausting. lol
It’s also one we wish we would have wrote about immediately after, as some details have fallen from memory over the years. We’re going to do the best we can to recall it all as we archive it (vacation was 2011, blog post 2014).
One of our dear friends, Mike, is usually the mind behind these group getaways, although sometimes Cheril puts the idea out there. In this case it was Mike, and not only did he TELL us we were going, he lets us know that if we arrived the party will start without us. There were more warnings and demands but we will let those die a quiet death. lol
We went to South Beach for the Winter Music Conference (WMC), which is one of the biggest gatherings of music in the world. Thousands of artists, DJs and other industry folks are in town, as are music lovers. The parties are endless, the eye candy is poisonous and the festivities are energy zapping. This was our first time going, but the boys had been before. Another female friend came along, but we’re not sure if she had been before. Things go exactly as planned when we get there.
It’s the usual catching up with each other, giving hell and talking trash about who will make it through the entire weekend and who will quit early. It’s a given that Cheril will be the first. She doesn’t drink much and isn’t really a party person. She admittedly went because she didn’t want to be left out…and of course, Miami is home for her so she could can’t pass up an excuse to visit her mom.
After we got settled in, we hit the usual spot for libation: Wet Willies. That’s when things began their slow descent downhill (in a fun, but most-of-the-pictures-will-never-be-posted-on-the-Internet-kind-of-descent). LOL. It only took one “Call-a-Cab” order for some in our group to fall victim to its famed 190-proof drink. Cheril abstained and opted to take photos. LOL
As most of the crew stumbled back to our apartment we noticed something peculiar–the amount of men coming and going. Hmm. We don’t think much of it at first, thinking they’re probably in town for the same reason we are. As the day goes along, however, we wonder just how many people can being staying in a two bedroom apartment. We let it go and go on about our business–hitting a party or two and coming back to call it a night. It was in the middle of the night and by the time we all get in our respective beds, each one of us is wondering what is going on upstairs. What’s the noise? Why does it sound like furniture moving? What’s all the footsteps about? We don’t know, but we suffer through it. Thankfully, exhaustion from the parties make things easier than they would have normally been. The next morning we notice this again, and easy-to-be-irritated Cheril starts to get annoyed. We’re all are curious.
“Mike, why don’t you go up there and see what’s going on?” Monica asks. To which he promptly chirps, “hell no!” LOL. We remind him of all the hard bodies that have been trafficking in and out and that we just want to ask if they can keep it down. Semi-reluctantly, he finally agrees. We can’t remember exactly what he’d planned on saying if it didn’t look like the people who would take kindly to visitors or not, but we vaguely remember it being him saying he’d just ask for some sugar.
So he goes up, presses his ear to the door and backs off all while Cheril is a flight below pointing a camera at him. For all of his muscles, Mike is really a sweet guy who is not into unnecessary confrontation, but he tries goes along for the team. As luck would have it, however, the apartment becomes completely silent when he went up and he decides to leave them alone. Great. The next night we hear the racket again but this time there’s more than the noise of furniture moving and hurried footsteps. There are grunts, moans and high-pitched obscenities and someone giving directions…and that’s when we start putting two and two together. It appeared our neighbors were porn stars. Yes. In all of the places we could have landed that weekend, we landed in a building that had a full fledged porn shoot going on above us. Our suspicions were confirmed the next morning when Mike was standing out front and another guy walks past him and mumbles, “does he work here? Because…mmm! THAT’S what I’m talkin’ bout!!”
We have no idea how we contained our reaction until that guy got in the building but that comment would be one of the running jokes all weekend as we tolerated the sounds of boots and stilettos, whimpers and screams. Once we knew what was really going on some how it was no longer as annoying. LOL.
The rest of the weekend pulsed along with dance parties that ended at 9:00am and pool parties that started at noon the same day. Energy drinks and little sleep kept us going. Cheril hung in there for the most part, but as expected, did call it quits first. LOL.
Though it was a really, really fun trip, we have decided we are officially TOO OLD to be out there trying to party for almost 24 hours straight. After all, we are well into our 30s and some delicately tip-toeing into our 40s. So WMC, we (at least us–we can’t truly speak for the boys), will not be returning.
Thanks for a good time, friends!
Have any of you ever gone to this conference? What was your experience?