A Trip To The Mainland

During the times when I’m not feeling loquacious (which has been the case of late), it’s always nice to crack open an old journal and see what in the hell I was thinking and writing years ago. In January of 1994 I was a bartender living in Key West, trying to get over a girl and write the Great American Novel. Since I wasn’t having any luck at either, when a few friends came to visit we decided to take a trip:

Key West, FL
January 27, 1994
Thursday Afternoon 4:12 p.m.

Returned early this morning from my first road trip to the mainland. I’m quite weary, but still glad I did it. Let me explain.

I guess it all started yesterday afternoon when I called in sick to work. Jamie, Dave, and Corey rented a car to drive up the Keys and I didn’t want to miss out. I’ve been here almost 4 months and until last night I’d never been any further than Marathon Key. So I made the call to Perry’s, and under false pretenses (a sprained ankle getting out of the shower . . . always give embarrassing stories about yourself when you’re calling in sick to work) I was given the okay to head up U.S. 1.

At 2:30 we finally hit the road. We didn’t have any plans or even a destination. Islamorada and Key Largo were thrown out, but nobody really cared where went. So after stopping at Burger King in Stock Island our journey was underway.

U.S. 1, the road that connects all The Keys with Mainland Florida, is not a road for speedy travel. Traffic during the day gets heavy, and it can seem like an eternity when you’re stuck behind a mammoth truck. At some points there are 2 lanes, but those are the exceptions. Mostly it’s a one lane shot with oncoming traffic hindering any passing plans.

Except it’s not all bad. Fortunately the road offers nice views of the ocean, glimpses of the old railroad, and interesting flora and some elegant houses. Also, if you get deep enough, it’s cool to know you’re hopping from one island to the next, suspended over the Atlantic Ocean by just some concrete and steel.

Well, it took us about 4 hours to reach mainland Florida. Along the way we stopped in Marathon to walk onto the old railroad, and in Key Largo for some clues as to what to do.

Traveling without a destination is actually kind of funny. Here we are, driving well over a 100 miles, and we had no plan of action. All we wanted was a good bar to hang out at for the night. Our expectations were not too high.

After stupidly driving by some signs that advertised “happy hour” in Ismoralda (which is supposed to be a good party place), we decided upon Key Largo as our town of choice. Hell, if it was good enough for Bogie and Bacall, why not us? So we stopped at (where else) a liquor store for some info on the good bars in town.”

“There are no good bars in Key Largo,” the man behind the counter said.

I couldn’t help but laugh. At that moment I knew how Clark Griswald must have felt when he got all the way to Wally World to find out it was closed. All we wanted was a good bar with some tasty food, but Mr. Liquor Store Guy pissed all over that.

“If you want good bars, go to Coconut Grove. Marino’s, Baha Beach Club . . . that’s where everybody goes. It’s about 45 minutes from here.”

Well, the names sounded good. Coconut Grove. Beach Club. And Dan Marino, although a nemesis of The Pats, is a helluva good QB. So why not? We hopped into the car and hit the road again. We got through Key Largo, buzzed into Homestead, and then stopped into a mall for directions to Coconut Grove and food. T.G.I. Friday’s ended up being the restaurant, and Angela the bartender turned out to be a good source of information. She told us how to get to “CG, the place to go, and you gotta go down to Coco Walk”- and Angela gave us the name of somebody to say hi to at Marino’s Bar.

It was worth the trip.

A town of narrow streets, quaint shops, outdoor cafes, and rocking bars, Coconut Grove is a place I’m glad I’ve seen. Coco Walk, a multi-level plaza with balconies and open air walkways, is the hotbed of activity. White, Spanish stucco combines with corral rock, and there are palm trees and landscaping to please the eye. To appease the body and soul, we hit the bars.

The first place we went was Marino’s, to say hi to Moe for Angela. Moe turned out to be a cool guy who hooked us up with free beer, showed us some bar tricks, and kept us entertained with his Brian Flannagan (Cocktail) impersonations. There were nice looking girls playing pool, a zillion TVs, and good nachos. Overall a great experience.

The next place I give mixed reviews. The Baha Beach Club had one element that I always look for- beautiful women, but the place reeked of pretentious idiots. One the plastic scale I’d rank it a 10 plus. Yes, I can’t complain about the girls- from the half naked bartenders to slutty dancers- but they were the kind of women who’d ask what kind of car you drive . . . if you were even lucky to get that far into a conversation.

Well, I never go into any conversations. I was groggy from the nachos and beer, and weary from the hours in the car. I’ve slung some good bullshit in my time, but it wasn’t going to happen that night. So I just drank my Coronas and did a lot of staring.

I wasn’t the only one. The rest of the crew were in agreement that the day needed to end. I wanted to stay at a hotel, but Dave said he was okay to drive. So we did, and had to combat the hours and miles back to Key West. I was drunk, but couldn’t sleep. I just stared at that white line on the road and got glimpses of the ocean off the streetlights as we went over the bridges. At 4:04 a.m. we had come full circle. I’m glad I went . . . but the next time I’ll be better prepared.