champagne.

i went on a bit of a road trip this weekend. all the way down to south beach. as proof, i am including photographic evidence of me and brittany.

we began our night at the delano. always a favorite of mine. headed straight to the outside bar which proved to be a humorous scene all on its own. poor south beachers... its 70 degrees and the space heaters are out. brittany spent most of the night in a friend's big jacket.

somehow i was able to get brittany to get back into the hotel sans jacket. and believe it or not she made it without losing any fingers or toes to frost bite. *phew*

after ample mojitos at the delano we took a cab 2 blocks (it was "cold" remember?") to mynt. i don't know how i always end up at this hell hole. there are more cocktail napkins being thrown in the air than you'd expect to see at a greek restaurant if zeus and hera had come to life.

here at mynt we decided it was time to drink 900 glasses of champagne. "lucky" for us there was a table of brit twits behind us that had a 3 foot bottle of veuve at their disposal. how do you even buy a 3 foot bottle of champy? can you imagine walking into a liquor store and walking out with a bottle or 2 of these? together they are the size of a person. does that mean you can put a hat on one of them and drive in the hov lane? hmm...

anyway, i digress...

so the owner of the 3 foot bubbly insists that i have a glass. i declined about 3 times. i love champagne but i don't like veuve and quite frankly, i dont fancy you either. this is when his friend pulls me up to where they are. let's take note that i am wearing 4.5" heels. sigh. i guess i am now drinking champagne with my new "friends". of the group, mr. champagne begins to have a conversation with me. i get it that he is british and on "holiday" from london town. but i don't really care about that or anything else he is going to say...

brit: so, my name's (insert garbled nonsense)
va: what?
brit: B.U.O.Y but it's pronounced bio. you know, like biology.
va: ohhh ok, great. (umm B.U.O.Y. spells buoy you daft arse)
brit: so where are you from?
va: here.
brit: i can't believe it!
va: ok well, not RIGHT here. but florida.
brit: yeah i mean, i just can't believe it! i've never seen you in london.
va: (insert blank stare)
brit: i mean, we don't have girls that look like you back in the uk.
va: i'm sure there are lots of indian girls over there.
brit: omg you're indian? do you know my best mate! she's indian too!
va: oh, that's nice. (of course i know her, she's brown, i'm brown... how could i not)
brit: you should come for holiday some time. i'd love to take you out.

first of all, buddy, you look like seal. trust me, i am not interested. i think i saw some german model outside - you may have better luck with her. and no i don't know your brown friend. do you know how many "bloody" brown people there are in london? how in the hell would i know your friend? because we're both brown?

soon after this delightful exchange of words, bio or buoy or whatever and his entire london gang begin to light up. holy smoke stack. my eyes were itching and i was terrified that my hair was going to get set ablaze (hey, curly hair requires a lot of product)... not to mention i think i was choking.

brit: are you alright?
va: ill just be right back. (i begin to engage in an overly exaggerated hacking cough.)

thank god for faux asthma. except mine is real. well, just not this time.