What I Learned in Florida

This vacation, I learned a valuable lesson from one of the local Miamians. After a week of being on the beach with men and women running around shirtless with thong bathing suits and margaritas in hand, my friends and I decided to hit the streets for some shopping. It was the last day of the trip, and I wanted as much of the Irish equivalent of a tan that I could get, so I threw on my bikini and tank top. It was Miami Beach, people walk around in bathing suits all the time! Had it been New York City, I may have taken another thought. I was sitting outside of Starbucks with my friends Brooke and Ashley, when an old lady approached me. Her leathery skin and linen body suit told me she was close to seventy years old. I turned to this woman, she looks me up and down, and pretty much told me (I'm keeping it very clean) that I shouldn't be wearing that bathing suit. Well, she actually said MUCH more to me that wouldn't be appropriate for a school based blog.

So, there I was in the middle of Collins Ave, squaring off with an old lady. I was polite at first, telling her "Thank you for your opinion", hoping that she would walk away. Her rant went on. She picked a stubborn girl to share her rude opinion with. I wasn't going to just walk away after the things she had said to me. So I asked her,  "Excuse me, are you my mother?" She took off her sunglasses revealing her silvery-blue eyeliner and eyeshadow combination that reached all the way to her penciled in eyebrows. "Do I look old enough to be your mother?", she asked me. I wanted to tell her she looked old enough to be my grandmother. That's when I knew she was a little off kilter. We had drawn somewhat of a crowd at this point, and I wasn't about to smack this old lady right across the face - even if she DID very much deserve it, and if I very much wanted to. Sorry lady, I left all my white linen jumpsuits at home. I'll pack accordingly next year. I turned to my friends and asked them if we could leave. The last thing the woman told me before storming her way back to Starbucks was, "If you are an American, be an American." I thought being American meant having the freedom of expression. The liberty to dress and act as I choose, within the boundaries of the law. Her caustic words reminded me that I am blessed to be an American. I am grateful that I do not live in the Middle East, where under the law I would wear a Burka, concealing all but my eyes from the world.

On my trip to Miami I learned two things. First, I learned that when confronted with crazy, I can stay strong but sane. And finally, I learned that it would be smart to pack pepper spray next year along with my bikini.