Make no mistake. I am delighted that I moved to Florida. Cool job, nice apartment, great winter/spring weather, proximity to beaches, new people, outdoor festivals, great restaurants, burgeoning art scene, killer people watching, etc. No regrets.
But as with any situation, you take the good (beaches, weather) with the not-so-good (hurricane season and horrifying stance on capital punishment.) It's been awhile since I wrote an acerbic post, so why not? Here they are: The things I hate most about Florida.
1. The drivers.It's not so much that the traffic is bothersome. Yeah, I could do without the hour-long commute to work each way, but it's inevitable, given that twenty billion people live in Broward, Dade and Palm Beach counties (True story.) No - it's the drivers that make driving intolerable.
In Michigan, whenever you see someone with a Florida plate, someone would say: "People from Florida can't drive." It's funny/enraging because it's true. They can't! No one down here can drive. They all think they can and they are wrong. It's as if every day is the first day of driver's ed for everyone on the highway. They all seem to operate with the "I'm impervious to death" attitude of a 15-year-old and the attention-span of a fruit fly. These are the worst drivers I have ever seen - and I've driven in Boston. During rush hour. No, my friends. This - this - is some seriously amazing carelessness.
Florida drivers (and this includes snowbirds, locals and tourists) fall into at least one or more categories: death-wish motorcyclists, freeway accident Lookie-Loos, Loni Lanedrifters, obsessive hornhonkers, pedestrian hitters, obviously-compensating-for-something-Hummer-driving-tailgaters and Cellphone Suzies. Oh, and the jerks who drive 45 MPH in the car pool lane during H.O.V. hours with no passengers.
I've never seen such reckless endangerment of life (or more accurately, multiple lives). People change lanes without looking in mirrors or checking blind spots - all while flinking around on their Blackberries and "steering" an SUV at 90 miles an hour - like it's their jobs.
The most baffling part of the puzzle is, if you spend any time on I-95, you are constantly reminded of the dangers of driving. On any given day, I see one to six accidents. A high percentage of these are fender-benders caused by people slowing down to rubberneck at a fender-bender on the other side of the road, as if it's a herd of unicorns or something never seen in all of human existence, instead of something that is as much a part of the daily commute as getting honked at for waiting "too long" to go on a green light. Often enough, there is a stomach-turning, send-chills-down-your-spine kind of accident scene (with special Serious Incident response vehicles) that should make you slow down and reconsider your driving habits. But it only seems to increase the need to lurch erratically into the path of a vehicle traveling at a faster rate of speed than you for no discernible reason. The fact that I will one day become a Florida Driver serves only to fan the flames of bile and contempt.
2. Creepy crawlies
The cats have/had(?) fleas. Our apartment has sugar ants, fruit flies and the occasional horrifyingly gigantic "Palmetto Bug" (which the cats seem to enjoy killing. Thank you, boys.). Reportedly, the summer brings ravenous mosquitoes, flying fire ants and locust swarms. Welcome to paradise!
3. Red TapeThere is no Florida Secretary of State, at least, not like we know it to be. And several months spent trying to secure a Florida driver's license, car registration and plates might convince you that there is no God. Never has a state made seemingly straight-forward tasks - proving you are a citizen and a licensed driver - more needlessly complicated. The Florida Department of Transportation caused me to use the "F" word on the phone with my mother at 8:30 on a Saturday morning. K.B. and I think the state slogan should be changed to: "Florida: Just how badly do you want this?" I'll say one thing for this state - they certainly know how to make you work for it. Oh, and I don't need some smartass to send me a link to the Florida Department of Transportation. The answers are not there. You might think they are. They are not.
4. Legions of Gym Guys - As far as the eye can see!
5. Ed Hardy. Adam and I have the misfortune of living below an Ed Hardy loving Gym Guy and his high-heel wearing girlfriend. Cheesiest. Neighbors. Ever.
I would like to add one more annoying/creepy thing about our shared neighborhood as well, and that is the ice cream man who is still trolling the streets well after dark playing that eerie song - Pop Goes the Weasel?
ReplyDelete- K.B.