the sherry

i was excited about going to miami only because i heard that the hotel was on the beach and had a vending machine that sold $1 beer. so cheap beer and the beach, a swimsuit and a smile. but that's not really how it worked out.
we land and it is not sunny. it is windy. the torrential rainfall was sporadic. we get to the hotel and i'm confused as to whether or not we are in a classy place or a dump. the lobby is huge. a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. fancy couches everywhere, but there's totally a weird feeling about the place...comparable to the lounge of a youth hostel or a college dorm. behind the front desk are two older cuban women with hair bleached so blonde it was almost white...or maybe they were so old that their hair was truly white, and slightly yellowing. there are a shitload of airplane models behind the desk representing every airline you can think of.
i walk past the desk and there are more lounges. huge wooden pool tables. more chandeliers. shuffle board. a patio. a big pool with a fountain in the middle.
people hanging out and drinking all over the place. and then i realize that they are all flight attendants.
downstairs, on the lower level there is a fitness center. a beauty salon. a huge kitchen. the infamous vending machine.
the mezzanine level is a library with computers. there is a ballroom. a micro-cinema that doubles as the place for free breakfast. the sherry lounge is the bar that you go to when they lock up the vending machine with cheap beer.
the hotel caters only to flight crews. it is right on the beach.
it is like a cross between the bates and the shining. it is complete debauchery.
no children allowed.

it's the most amazing, bizarre place i've ever been to.

and i can't wait to go back.

miami, baby.

miami. who wants to go with me next time and party hard with the flight attendants and pilots? we're lots of fun.