Now that I'm awake

Ok so last night/this morning I met a friend of a friend (the son of my friends ex actually) and of course the first thing our mutual friend told him was that I was from Miami but I've lived here for just over 6 years now (this was to explain my accent). I knew exactly what was to come the moment I heard the words pass through our friends lips. Here we go with the assumptions that All of Miami is like you see in the movies and stuff you hear from TV and the news and shit. Wonderous joy!

This guy (a 23 yearold farm boy) has it in his head that he knows exactly what I gave up to live here. A nice big house with about an acere of land an olympic sized pool and hot tub a living room the size of most one bedroom apartments here... Either that or one of those nice apartments with a view of the beach or whatever. Yhea right! Try a tiny (under 800sqft) little 2 bedroom 1940's bongalo who's one outstanding feature (other than it's age) was the outdoor (though shilded) shower next to my back door that I could just barly mannaged to afford. Ofcourse this guy doesn't beleive such places exist in Miami though he understands it would be an expensive place to live.

As it happens he's planning on taking holiday soon and he was thinking to visit the States so one thing leads to another and Mr.Unbeleiving is gonna go visit my old neighborhood to see this shit for himself. Boy, is he in for a surprize! This is a guy who's never been outside Europe and when he ventures out of his own little village he heads straight to the most trend-o-riffic sections of a nice big trendy city. He's never seen a single family neighborhood in real life. Farms, townhouses and appartment complexes are all this boy knows.

Ah the joys of inflicting total culture shock on a poor unsuspecting farm boy who thinks he knows everything. For a moment I concitered sendding the little fucker to go check out a few other choice spots in and around Miami but chose not to be so cruel though I'm still thinking it would do the little asshole some good to stay with my stepbrother out in Little River durring his visit. Ofcourse he's been saving for his big trip to the states for years and he's got a few grand put away for it so he wants to stay in some fancy hotel on South Beach ofcourse (though he has yet to check the per night rates at any of these places and has yet to realize that a freaking room at a "mid range" place will run him the same as some of the designer holels here) and won't hear of staying some place on the cheap or off the beatten path so I didn't even mention it.

I can just see him thinking about booking a room at the Sagamor or Royal Palm and finding out he'll be lucky to afford the Cleavlander or President for a week since he plans on rentting a car and going places to see and be seen and buying shit. Perhaps I should get his e-mail address and send him a list of places he'll be able to afford. But then again it might be fun to sit here and wait and see how long it takes farm boy to actually research the cost of this trip he's planning and see if he's got the good sence to ask someone who knows what he's stepping in to.