One of the great things about Key West is the open container law. It allowed us to always have a refreshing beverage in our hands no matter where we were. You can even get a beer at one bar and bring it into the next. This was great for those of us who don't drink a lot, as we didn't have to order a new beer at every place that we went to.
We hit a bar as we waited for the train and then poured the rest of our drinks in cups and boarded the cutest little trolley with the cutest little driver. He took us all around and gave great commentary. The four of us girls sat in the very back (as only the coolest of kids do), and we eventually gave in to Jil's requests to take a picture of us all wearing the paper train conductor hats the ticket lady gave us.
Oh, quick side note: Claudia mentioned that morning that she had forgotten to pack her selfie stick. We immediately proceeded to make fun of her, and I believe I made a comment about how I would rather get back on a plane than be caught dead taking a picture with one of those things. She tried to explain how useful they are, but we were all like, "Psssh, nooooo Claudia, you're wrooooong". Needless to say, she went into the gift shop next to the ticket stand for the train and bought a selfie stick. It was pink. It was large when extended.
It was a lifesaver.
Granted, it took us awhile to figure out how to use it, but by the end of the first day we were pros. We took this thing EVERYWHERE and used it a million times. Please enjoy the photos below that first show Carol, Jil, and I very confused about Claud's instructions on how to use it, and then show how useful that little pink sucker was:
 |
| "Wait, what? There's a button? WHAT'S GOING ON?" |
 |
| Cheese, suckers |
Ok, back to the story.
After getting off of the train we decided that our first stop would be to Ernest Hemingway's house which thrilled me to the core because, while I think he's a shit writer (sorry every English teacher I've ever had), I was still interested to see how he lived and worked.
We entered the house, which was BEAUTIFUL, and tagged along on a tour that was about to start. Our tour guide was amazing. She was funny and knowledgeable and didn't hold back on telling us about old Ernie's affairs and affinity towards the glug glug. It was amazing to walk through and see the books that he read and the glasses that he drank out of and the typewriters scattered around. We also realized that not only was Hemingway a stone cold fox when he was younger, but he was also a silver haired god when he was older. The consensus was, 'Yeah, I'd hit that'.
 |
| The Sun Also Rises in my pants, amirite? |
There were also cats. Oh good lord were there cats. 6-toed cats to be exact, 55 of them. They were on the bed, napping in the sink, wandering around their little village of mini wooden houses. They all were named after celebrities, like Marilyn Monroe and Humphrey Bogart. Jil was beside herself with the adorableness of it all, and I was beside myself with an allergy attack.
The best part was after the tour, when we could go up and see the studio where he wrote. It was the only part of the house that was completely untouched, and there were black, wrought iron bars keeping you from fully walking in. But to see where this man sat and thought and wrote and daydreamed, it was incredible. There was still a piece of paper in his typewriter (whether that was staged or not I'm unsure of, but I'm going to pretend it was real).
After leaving the Hemingway House, we shopped and we ate and we became quite familiar with how oppressively hot Key West was. I'm freezing if it's below 80 degrees so I loved every second of it- it was sticky and muggy and sexy and I was in heaven. Whenever we got too hot we would just duck into a store which are all air conditioned, or stand by a fan outside a restaurant. After a few hours we decided to head back to the hotel and watch some TV like god damn Americans.
While waiting for the shuttle back, a group of youths came up and began a fight right in front of us. They were drunk, they were yelling, the girls were trying to calm down the boys, the boys all had ridiculously bright shorts on. Eventually the drunkest guy sat by a tree a few feet away from me and promptly began to vomit. Claudia turned to me and suggested that I maaaaybe not look in that direction.
As our shuttle arrived the girls pulled out a plastic bag for the kid to continue puking in, which the wind immediately picked up and took out of her hands. It flew into the street, and one of the guys ran out after it, right into traffic. Everyone stopped and one of the girls finally asked, "Did he, like, get run over?"
He did not.
They then walked towards our shuttle and us girls looked at each other, hoping this jackhole was not going to be getting on our ride and ralphing all over our good time. Luckily our shuttle was just for our hotel, so the gaggle of idiots got on another trolley.
After our relaxing break in the hotel room, we got ready for our first night out. We got dressed and brushed our hair and put on some makeup. Claudia, my fellow blonde, got this powder to fill in her eyebrows, as sometimes people with lighter hair can look like they have no eyebrows or eyelashes which is just plain silly. She asked if I wanted to try it and I was all, hell yes!
She showed me how to put it on and I felt like a new lady. The other three girls approved so we grabbed our bags and the selfie stick (I feel like we should have named it, considering it ended up practically being the 5th person on our trip) and walked out of the hotel to catch the shuttle. It promptly started pouring.
 |
| We come from the school of tongues, not duck face |
But did that stop us? No! We had overcome the plane ride from hell and the car ride from some other hell! We were unstoppable! We were ready! WE HAD EYEBROWS DAMMIT!!!
We hit a bar called Sloppy Joe's that someone had suggested to Carol. It was super crowded so we decided to just grab some walking beers there and move on. The girl behind the bar asked for me and Claud's IDs, and when she saw how old her were she looked at us, then back down at our licenses, then back up at us.
"Damn!" she said, as all four of us look roughly ten years younger than we actually are.
Our next stop was Irish Kevin's where we happily realized that we weren't the oldest people in the bar. There was a guy on stage playing guitar and singing and he would bring up people who had on a bachelorette sash or a birthday crown, and pour liquor down their throats. Then we realized that mentally, maybe we were the oldest people in the bar because we gagged just at the thought of taking a shot of anything.
We used to be cool, I swear. We used to stay out past 10, and drink all night, and not wear sweatpants to the bar.
From there we hit the main event of the night: A drag show.
Jil and Claud have been to them before but Carol and I were downright penis tucking virgins. We met one of the performers outside, Miss Sheeva, promptly became best friends with her, and took a picture of all of us (she even found the picture on Facebook that night and commented on how nice it was to meet us. Be still my heart). Her makeup sparkled like the Times Square New Year's Eve ball and she had a better rack than I'll ever have.
We went inside and grabbed seats right at the front of the stage. While we were waiting for the show to start, the announcer and head performer came around to talk to us. She came up to us with her microphone and began asking me where we were from when she suddenly stopped at stared at me.
"Your eyebrows are amaaazing," she said as she took a finger and firmly wiped it across my newly powdered brow.
"Don't wipe it off, they're fake!" I cried as the rest of the girls burst out laughing.
"Oh shit!" the host laughed, before putting her arm around me and saying, "Girl, I know how that goes."
I told her we were from Philly and she told us that she has a cousin who lives in King of Prussia, by that "big, crazy ass mall".
The show was amazing. AMAZING. We stuffed dollar bills in the girls' outfits and sung and danced and had the best time. By 1:30am the show still wasn't over, but our tired old asses decided to go home.
 |
| She slayed, she sashayed, she wiped my eyebrows off |
We got an Uber home and collapsed into bed. Four girls, seven eyebrows.
No comments:
Post a Comment