I’m thinking too much for a Tuesday morning.

My day started with having to take my dog Ernie (The Old Man) to the vet. I take him to a clinic called Carballo Vet Clinic, where they seem to really care about animals, but not professionalism. Their approach is a bit of a pain in the ass, but they seem to know what they’re doing (particularly the owner’s son, who is a vet as well). It’s a bit concerning that I saw one vet two weeks ago and received different information than this time… I think the son is far better than the father, but I digress.

The clinic is located in a bit of a small strip mall. The parking is usually a pain in the ass, but not so much because of the vehicles as much as what the people do with them. First of all, you get to run into some incredibly mind numbing dumb shit like this parking spot.


I’m unsure what was first: the stairs or the parking space. This struck me as absurdly idiotic and yet it is a great example of Miami. Things are half assed, not thought out properly and when it’s spotted (which this MUST have been), it’s not corrected.
Dear construction company: If you fuck it up, fix it. That’s what you’re paid for. This is blatantly negligent. You’re part of the problem and it’s scary to think you’re out there somewhere running a business.

Without fail The Old Man decides to take a crap. It’s almost a ritual – we enter the clinic and he squats. Now, before any genius suggests I let him go to the bathroom before we get there – I do. Every time. I don’t want him to pee in my car so I make sure that he goes to the bathroom before even entering my vehicle. I don’t want him to use the clinic and a bathroom so I make sure he goes to the bathroom after we exit the vehicle. This time he went on the sidewalk two stores down from the clinic. There’s some sort of immigration services on that store and two ladies headed that way start speaking loudly to themselves about the dog crapping the sidewalk. It was a private conversation meant for me to hear. I had no plastic bags with me so I walked to the clinic door with the dog, opened the door and asked if they had bags. A lady said she would handle it and had someone grab baggies, gloves, spray and paper towels. Very efficient. As I continue holding the door open so I can make sure nobody accidentally steps on The Old Man’s crap, I realize that the two nosy ladies have THEIR door open and are standing there staring at me. I asked them if I could help them with something, to which they respond by walking into their store. Charmed.
Dear nosy ladies from the immigration store: I’m unsure if you were staring because you wanted to ensure I cleaned up or to chastise me. If it was to ensure I cleaned up, what if I hadn’t? Nobody would have done anything. If it was to chastise me, do your finger wagging in front of me so we can discuss. If not, well, mind your fuckin’ business and keep on walking.

On my way out I noticed some women dressed in extremely tight clothing (I’ve seen looser fitting clothes in superhero movies) and others in tiny clothing (I’ve dressed my dog in more fabric). I KNEW there had to be some type of store to laugh at. It couldn’t be a gym – even for Miami where people go to the gym in full makeup and/or sunglasses to pose they would not fit in. I was right. There was a cosmetic surgery clinic. As I drove past a younger woman wearing next to nothing with her Chihuahua as an accessory I thought that maybe the vet clinic should team up with the cosmetic one and offer a group discount for the Chihuahua visit and the cosmetic enhancement. I think I missed my calling.
Dear overdressed women at the cosmetic clinic: It’s a clinic. Unless they’re holding a pageant you look rather foolish with your “look at me” get up. It’s 9:00 AM on a Tuesday at a strip mall on SW 8th Street. There’s not many people to impress and likely you could only impressed someone you wouldn’t want to impress. Do you for you. Nobody else.

I try to exit the parking area, but it’s a bit tricky. See, there are two lanes: one going, one coming. People seem to stop their vehicles, put on their hazard lights and wait for someone. The most annoying one was a van that was in front of me. The vehicle stopped and a lady was speaking to them while standing in the other lane. I looked around and noted there were plenty of parking spots, but why bother to park if you can just stop wherever you want? The lady notices me and moves to the other window and motions for me to drive. I drove up to the driver’s window just so I could get a look at what an idiot’s face looks like. The older man looks at me angered that I would look. He actually was upset that I would be upset. This asshole who blocked a street to have a conversation in a busy strip mall was angry. I drove past them and exited.
Dear old asshole: Don’t act indignant when people don’t like it when you’re being a douchetard. You earned it. You must know you’re being an asshole so wear it with pride – don’t act offended. Also, don’t mad dog people that can snatch you out of your window when you’re old enough to not be able to walk up and down stairs.

You can drive straight (if vehicles let you) and make a turn to the left, but it’s a 3-4 lane road. I already know better so I turn right and eventually make a U-turn. See, nobody would ever let you in. In fact, there was 4 cars next to each other coming to turn into the strip mall – all 4 fighting to get in front of each other. It seems that nobody can think farther than themselves and realize that they are the reason there’s traffic rather than they’re doing it because there’s traffic. I drove two blocks down, made my turn and drove past the same 4 cars with  the same 4 assholes. Driving in Miami is something I won’t miss.

As I reach the red light I lean over my dog in the passenger’s side and grab my notepad to take notes on my observations. As I do so, a girl is walking window to window asking for money for something. I can’t tell what she’s selling but she has a handful of white papers. We make eye contact prior to her reaching my window and I try to politely wave her off. As she reached my window she loudly complained about my not giving her money. I couldn’t hear what she said gut could see her arms flailing about in stereotypical ghetto fashion. I look up in time for her to continue on her merry way. Charmed.
Dear lady asking for money: You’re not having a good day. I’m sorry that I never carry cash. Guess who will never give you money? Me and likely the cars behind me. Being pissed isn’t an excuse for  being stupid. Oh, and I’m not required to give anyone a god damn thing. If I do, it’s because I want to.

Speaking of being wrapped up in themselves, I’m one of the few people that will go to the grocery store and return the cart to the little station where they are stored. I went to the grocery store last night and realized there were many unavailable parking spots due to shopping carts. In fact, as I was leaving I saw two carts placed directly behind other cars. So very typical to go about your business and want other’s to pick up after you. Pet peeve of mine, but still. It’s like a child leaving their toys on the floor for the parents to pick up. Not only that, but there’s always cars parked in the fire lane. The pigs in Miami are always issuing tickets for crap. This would be easy pickings. One drive through every two hours and you can make your ticket quotas AND solve a problem – but problem solving isn’t on the agenda.
Dear parking assholes: Hey, you guys are causing traffic. There are parking spots. Pull the motherfuck over. I assure you that walking the extra 30 seconds won’t be bad for anyone. I wish I could walk around with my pig sticker and flatten every tire on your god damn car. You want to park? I’d leave you there.

Anyway, that diatribe being over, I’ve been up to a few things. I accepted a federal government job in Maryland and have been trying to narrow the choices of apartments as quickly as possible. I hate that things are up in the air and time is passing so quickly. I’m trying to not feel the pressure, but it finds me. I’m excited about the job opportunity, but I’m pretty terrified at the thought that I’ve never been to Maryland, I don’t know one person in Maryland and I am going to have to figure it all out. I’m also not looking forward to the change of weather, but for money they can send me to the pits of hell and I’ll set up shop. The area is interesting because paying between $100 – $200 more on a rental seems to make a HUGE difference in what is offered. I wish I knew someone in the area of Hyattsville to ask questions to.
Hey, Hyattsville: be gentle with me. It’s my first time. I also hope there’s cute girls up there.

I’ve continued my workout – I’m on 8 days without a break. I don’t think I need one since I run one day and the next day I do weights and crunches. Thing is that lately I’ve increased my runs to 5+ miles. Today is the first time in a while that I’m starting to doubt if I physically can go out and do it again. My mind says yes, but my calves are starting to complain.


The workouts are going well. It’s hard for me to start the jogging, but I feel GREAT when it’s done. I laugh because all you have to do is get yourself to the halfway point – your ass has no option but to jog back at that stage. I am a little upset that I have to buy new sneakers soon, though. This is an expensive time for me. Not only that, when I was pretty heavy I was nearly bursting out of size 40 pants. I’ve now had to open up holes in belts to tighten them properly. I’m wearing size 36 pants and they fit loosely. I’ve gone from wearing size Large or even XL shirts to Medium. I have a few Medium shirts to wear, but I’m now looking at having to buy clothes all over the place. Like I said – with a relocation this is just not the right time, but what can I do? I wish I could just go and do one giant shopping spree and update my clothing and donate the larger stuff. I’m particularly desperate to replace my jogging shoes as I know the lifespan of the ones I use is shorter than my average relationship.
Dear Lizzle: Stop complaining about losing weight. It’s better than  complaining about buying clothes because you got fat. Also, don’t be a pussy. Go for your run. If you make it through, you make it through. If you don’t, take it easy and try again the next time.

That aside, I’m now in a situation where I have to make time to see some people before I leave Miami. Local people that is. I have had some funny situations where several friends living out of state assure me they would have come to see me this year had I not been leaving. Thing is that they never have visited and I’ve been here since 1997. Yeah, OK, buddy. Anyway, I do have a couple of people I want to see before I leave. The organizing part of me suggests a get together to try to see everyone at once. I can’t. For one thing I don’t feel like setting up anything and much less cleaning up anything.

In a rare moment, I also don’t feel like being the center of attention for an evening. I want to handle this as low key and quiet as possible. If I get to see everyone, great. If I don’t, well, I’ll catch you when I visit. I’m certain I will. This Idiot Factory named Miami became a second home after all this time. I won’t miss 90% of the shit here, but that last 10% will weigh heavily.

Anyway, I’ll try to catalog my visits to people as I go along. I want to make sure I have as few regrets as possible when I leave and you know I’ll keep your asses posted.


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