Having A Vacation Meltdown in Coconut Grove
Have you ever had a terrible, horrible, very bad vacation?
My girlfriend Kelly and I had decided to take a trip to Miami to celebrate my birthday over Labor Day weekend. This was our first trip away together, and the whole flight down from DC we had been all over each other. By the time we showed up at the Doubletree in Coconut Grove, we were ready to tear each other’s clothes off. We hurriedly checked in, made out in the elevator, and dashed down the hallway to our room.
Apparently we Arrived During a Maids’ Strike
We opened the door and our room looked like it had been occupied by Motley Crue the night before. Lamps were knocked over, sheets were torn off the bed, the bathroom had stains on the mirror (we didn’t even try to guess what from. I just convinced myself it was toothpaste) and there were even cigarette butts lying around. I called the front desk and asked to get another room, to which the woman not-so-politely told me that it was Labor Day Weekend, and Miami-FSU was in town, and that she didn’t have another room to put us in. The best we could do was wait for the maid to come clean it, when she finished the other rooms she was working on. This, I learned, is pretty par for the course customer service in Miami.
Lacking anywhere to let out our sexual frustration, Kelly and I decided we may as well take advantage of the other fun thing to do in Coconut Grove, and start drinking.
Drinking on an Empty Stomach: Always a Good Idea
We had not eaten, however, and decided to get some food. Unfortunately, every restaurant we tried to go to had some sort of insane wait for a table and we eventually went to Sandbar, figuring at the very least we could sit at the bar and eat. Of course no seat in the place was available so we decided we would just drink our dinners. This would prove to not be one of our better decisions.
Now alcohol has a funny way of making people say things they really don’t mean. Or that they really do but didn’t want to say. Had the Doubletree remembered to clean our room, we would have been having sex on the fold out couch, but as it was I was 4 giant beers and two tequila shots into the night. I decided to try one of Sandbar’s famous Category 5 Hurricanes, which I understand can knock most UM frat boys flat on their asses. Kelly did not think this was a good idea.
Giving the Locals a Good Show
“I think you have had enough to drink,” she said as I made my way back to the bar.
“Ok, thanks Mom,” I smiled at her.
“Jesus, you look like you just turned 21, and are enjoying the fact that you can be at the bar without having a fake id. You are such a frat boy.” I summarily ignored her insult.
“I really love the body on that bartender. We should go back and ask her to come to our hotel room.” I had heard South Florida had quite the Swingers scene. Kelly somehow had missed this fact in the Fodor’s guide. She may have shoved me.
“Eww, you perv. What is wrong with you? Why do you always ruin fun nights with stupid comments like that?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m just really horny and you don’t put out enough.”
“Excuse me? You’re the one who wanted to wait two months before having sex. I always want to have sex, even when you aren’t around. I wanted to have sex in the elevator but you were worried about ‘cameras!’ You suck!”
“Don’t think there aren’t women who try to get me to hookup with them when I’m at the bar without you.” This was a lie, save for my recently-divorced 45-year-old coworker who had recently given me a creepy bottle of vodka for my birthday. Of course, Kelly didn’t know her age so I decided to play this to my advantage.
“You know the girl from work? She isn’t even married anymore and that present was totally an invitation for me to stop by her office for some nonwork related activities.”
Kelly’s eyes opened wide and she appeared stunned.
“I am not going to stand here and be embarrassed by your retarded drunk self.”
“Fine, I’m leaving and going to get that bartender for myself. Give me your room key.” I tried reaching for her purse and she pulled it away.
“Stop it. Why are you being like this?!” she demanded. For some reason I felt this would be a good time to share my thoughts on her family.
“I hate your dad. He is such a horrible person. Why did he show up wasted for my birthday dinner and completely berate your mother in front of me? You come from such a shithole family, I have no idea why I am even with you. I’m out.”
With that I stormed out of the bar onto Grand Avenue. Kelly tried to chase me, then stopped, knelt on the sidewalk face in hands, and cried. I let her sit there for a minute and walked back.
“Are you ready to stop being a bitch?” Apparently she didn’t find this comforting.
“Me stop being a bitch? Fine.. If that’s how you think it is, then I think we are finished.”
“Sounds good to me, now I can start seeing Gen.” Gen was the woman born before my mother who had given me the vodka.
“Let’s go back to the hotel room and go to sleep,” she told me. “You ruined what initially was such a good night. Tomorrow I’m calling my aunt in Ft. Lauderdale and I’m changing my seat on the flight back. You disgust me!”
I wanted to tell her I hadn’t ruined anything, that it was the idiot maids at the Doubletree who couldn’t remember to clean a friggin’ room who had ruined our trip. Sadly, all I could manage was an exasperated “Whatever.”
Kelly left the next morning with her aunt and I didn’t see her on the flight back. I later learned she had changed her flight and gone back early to avoid an awkward scene at the airport. When we got back to Maryland, we talked about it and worked it out for a while, but we were never the same. Though the Doubletree didn’t exactly ruin our relationship, they didn’t do a whole lot to help it.
This article is from Miami Beach 411’s Vacation Horror Stories Weekend. Next up: An all expenses paid trip to Busch Gardens ends up costing Aaron his house in “Virginia is For The Miserable.”
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"Having A Vacation Meltdown in Coconut Grove"