Since the Miami-Beach-spring-break-gate of 2021, I have been saving all my extra funds for a trip to the world’s greatest spring break destination: Miami Beach, Florida. Miami Beach, Florida.
After four long years of placing pennies and dimes in my piggy bank, I have finally managed the vacation of a lifetime, and I am here to share my experience with you all. (On an unrelated note, I am starting a GoFundMe to help me make rent this month. Donations are greatly appreciated.)
I was discouraged to see Florida break up with spring break last month, but I felt that — now more than ever — it was time for me to enjoy the beach of the people. I mean, did Florida think they could get rid of determined spring breakers that easily?
I flew on Beach or Bust Airlines. To keep spring break in Florida alive and well, the airline offered $200 roundtrip first class tickets from major airports once a day, on the condition that spring breakers would bring the flight crew an offering of beach sand and cocktail umbrellas on the flight back. Uses for the offerings were unclear.
The flight set the mood for Miami Beach marvelously. First class seats were adorned with beach towels, and members of the flight crew dressed in lifeguard attire. The team looked like they were fresh off the set of “Baywatch” and ran up and down the aisles in slow motion to really emulate beach awesomeness.
Once in Miami, I rushed to the beach. Since parking was so outrageously expensive by the beach, I decided to park my rental car in the sand. For some reason, that didn’t go over too well with the cops, who took my sunscreen and fined me 37 seashells as punishment.
I spent my first day sitting on the roof of my car admiring beach fashion. I was determined to reverse-image-search every outfit I liked, but vacationers made it difficult for me with their being in the water and all. Swim in a pool, people; the beach is for modeling.
On my second day, I paid $50 for a boat tour around the beach. The tour guide blathered on about how sea level rise was affecting the port town, which I found super disappointing. I really wanted to see all the celebrity mansions from the water, and I will be getting my money back.
For my third day, I gave the water a try. I arrived at the beach before sunrise, thinking I could beat the impending crowds, but I was still elbow-to-elbow with other patrons. Some of these individuals had created a water fortress of floating mattresses to ensure their spot on the beach, and I hear the coast guard is working with Mexican authorities to help them back to shore.
After wrestling through the crowds, I finally got to touch the water. Let me tell you: not worth the hype. The ocean was so warm it felt like a bathtub, disgusting!
Day four, I went to a rooftop party after seeing fliers plastered all over stoplights and streetlamps. I shopped all day for the perfect cocktail dress and had to push my way through sightseers trying to get a glimpse of the crystal blue water and painted sky at sunset. It will be there tomorrow. I have to shop today. Move.
At the party, I thought I saw Tupac Shakur, but it couldn’t have been, since everyone knows he’s in Cuba. Some guy named Joe Burrow offered to buy me a drink, but I wanted to scope out other options before accepting any free beverages.
By day five, I and other beachgoers were shocked to hear that a hurricane was headed for the Florida coast. Thankfully, Beach or Bust recently created a rocket ship designed to fly to Denver through the eye of a hurricane. Patent pending.
Overall, my Miami Beach vacation was mid. I found the soft sand hard on my ankles and left with a golden-brown tan, unlike the delightful tomato color I usually take on during beach vacations. I am sure I would have enjoyed the trip if I had gotten to ride along on the Diddy home FBI raid.
I love wearing flip flops, though. Nothing beats having my toes out in public places. For that, I would do Miami Beach again.
Photo by Kian Lem on Unsplash.