3 November 2003
And no cover charge, either
It's called Naked Lunch, it's apparently the first clothing-optional restaurant not connected to an existing naturist resort, and it's not surprising that it's in Key West instead of, say, Duluth.
While it's not true that I'll doff my duds at the drop of someone else's hat, I do spend rather a lot of time unclad; still, I can't see myself joining in the frivolities. For one thing, there's no way to drive to Key West on the way to somewhere else, because Key West simply isn't on the way to anywhere else, with the possible exception of Uranus, and I don't really envision it as a final destination, especially since I'd have to go through Miami twice in the process, which is twice more than I'd like.
More to the point, Naked Lunch doesn't strike me as a really great place to take a date, and, well, I hate dining alone in public, no matter what I'm wearing.
Posted at 6:27 PM to Birthday Suitable
As a longtime Miami native who finally escaped that fair burg a few years ago, I can tell you of the other tropical delights that wait the unclad:
-- Splinters in your bum when the rattan seat starts unravelling, and splints poke up through the cushions.
-- Ew, whose butt was on that cushion first? And --
-- Where the hell can you sit that isn't covered with gritty sand?
-- One word: mosquitos.
-- And last but not least: the sort of people who most often have the urge to disrobe in public are rarely possessing of Vogue-magazine-quality bods. But they do provide lots of hair in all sorts of places for sand fleas to lay eggs.
PS: I wonder if they will be serving that mainstay of Seventies wife-swapping parties, fondue washed down with Lancer's rosť wine?
For one thing, there's no way to drive to Key West on the way to somewhere else, because Key West simply isn't on the way to anywhere else, with the possible exception of Uranus, and I don't really envision it as a final destination,
There's a joke there somewhere.