Fort Lauderdale: Humidity, Hot Takes, and a Whole Lot of Pastel
okay, so fort lauderdale. it’s…a lot. i ended up here because, honestly, the flight was cheap and i needed to escape a particularly aggressive pigeon situation back home. don’t ask.
first impressions? it smells like sunscreen and regret. in a good way? maybe. the air is thick. i just checked and it’s… clinging to everything right now, like a needy ex. 23.55 degrees Celsius, they say, but it feels like you’re walking into a warm hug from a very sweaty person. humidity’s at 86%, which explains why my hair has declared independence. the pressure’s normal, apparently, 1018, but honestly, i feel a lot of pressure just existing.
i’ve been wandering around, mostly getting lost and accidentally photobombing spring break pictures. the *beach is…well, it’s a beach. crowded, sandy, full of people attempting questionable fashion choices. i overheard someone complaining about the seaweed situation on TripAdvisor - apparently, it’s been a bit of a problem. someone told me it’s like swimming in salad, which, honestly, is a pretty accurate description.
the locals are…interesting. i’ve met a guy who claims to be a retired dolphin trainer, a woman who’s convinced she’s a mermaid, and a whole lot of people who just want to sell me timeshares. if you get bored, miami and palm beach are just a quick drive away, which is good because fort lauderdale can feel a little… repetitive after a while.
i stumbled into this little vintage shop on Las Olas Boulevard - seriously, check out Retro Revival if you’re into that sort of thing. found a killer Hawaiian shirt for ten bucks. it’s probably seen things.
i’m staying in this Airbnb near the canals. the neighbors are…enthusiastic gardeners. like, really enthusiastic. my window overlooks a jungle of hibiscus and bougainvillea. it’s pretty, but also slightly terrifying. i heard from the Airbnb host that there’s a local legend about a gator living in one of the canals. apparently, it’s named “George” and is a bit of a celebrity.
i tried to find some good coffee*. let me tell you, it was a struggle. most places seem to think “strong” means “burnt.” finally found a decent spot, Roaster’s Guild, but it was packed with people working on their laptops. the usual suspects.
“don’t trust anyone who wears socks with sandals. they’re hiding something.”
that’s what a bartender at this dive bar told me last night. i think he was three sheets to the wind, but it’s good advice, honestly.
i’m starting to think fort lauderdale is a place you either love or hate. there’s no in-between. it’s loud, it’s brash, it’s a little bit tacky, but it’s also…kind of charming? i’m not sure. i need more coffee. and maybe a stronger air conditioner. oh, and i found this forum about local events: Fort Lauderdale Local Events
“the best seafood is always served out of a truck. always.”
that’s another gem i picked up. i’m going to investigate. wish me luck. and send sunscreen. seriously, send sunscreen.
“avoid eye contact with the pelicans. they judge.”
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