Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.

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Miami

Anyway, after a number of missteps involving our hotel, the Miami locals decided that we out of towners had to see !MIAMI!, which meant dinner at Gloria Estephan�s restaurant (I�ve forgotten the name) in South Beach.

Barely a minute after leaving the hotel for the night, it started raining, and by time we finally realized that we had driven by the place, torrents of rain was coming down in biblical proportions. In the half -block I ran from the car to the restaurant, I was soaked.

I would have spent much of the night wet and cold (air conditioning was set a tad high) except that my brother-in-law�s wife�s mother* got very Latina mother on the wettest of us, which is how I ended up standing outside the women�s restroom, while she stood in the doorway with a hairdryer in hand, extension cord pulled to the fullest, using it to dry me off. From the laughs and smiles, I think some of the customers thought we were part of the entertainment.

Though I�ve had better Cuban food, the food was good enough, and it�s not everyday I get to eat and drink amongst the �attractive crowd� under the watchful gaze of overly large photos of Gloria Estephan.

By the time we left to walk our meal off, it had stopped raining and the temperature had dropped to pleasantly warm. It was a beautiful night, with occasional sharp flashes of lightning in the distance over the water.

*I meant it when I wrote we were traveling with extended family.

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