Chapter 28: Versace Mansion

Getting back to Miami, I knew I had to live on the beach. In South Beach. There was no other place I wanted to be. Plus, that’s where most of the entertainment business was, or was near.

I got a cheap hotel room, by the beach, and was determined to find an apartment nearby. And I did find one. I soon landed an inexpensive, yet spacious studio in a set of apartments above a gelato shop. It was a killer location, too. Only a block away from the beach and only a block from the Versace Mansion.

(In front of the mansion, which has now been converted into a hotel, is the spot where Gianni Versace was tragically shot and killed. I remember passing by that spot, regularly, and feeling the negative energy, on that strip of pavement. Once, late at night, I swear I saw a ghostly figure resembling Mr. Versace, an apparition, at the mansion’s front door, attempting to open the door, to no avail, and then vanishing, like a swarm of flies, into the eternal humidity of the night... )

It had been a seismic shift, going from a small university town outside Nashville, to being in the heart of South Beach.

Just walking around the circumambient streets was like injecting a drug. It was intoxicating. The lights, the neon signs on buildings lit up at night. The mottled bright colors, the pinks and greens, the Art Deco architecture.

The cars around there, too. There was every sort of vehicle imaginable. Luxury cars, limousines, Vespa scooters, Hummers, buckets. Everything. My favorites, though, had to be the 1950s vintage American cars, so well-maintained, polished up and elegant as Christine. The boat-like things, with their caramel leather interiors, tailfins, and big round headlights, bright and bursting like twin stars.

It was as if every vehicle in South Beach had a special shine to it, the way they would glint and speckle in the sun.

I was loving the culture, too, art galleries with traveling exhibitions. It seemed like there was top-notch art talent everywhere. Young painters by the beaches and on the streets, poised to be the next Picasso.

And the music. The music! The hot nights were alive with hot live music, music pouring from bars, restaurants and clubs, powering the party. There were such great, swinging Salsa bands. Salsa so carnal and vibrant that it made you want to tear off your clothes, jump, and dance naked in the night. And there were so many awesome radio stations, too, playing everything from Latin music to dance, hip hop, pop, and rock.

I also found myself reading and highly enjoying the entertaining and insightful Miami New Times newspaper. As well as returning to reading print editions of my long-time favorites, The Miami Herald and Sun Sentinel.

While I’d loved the food in the South, the Tennessee BBQ, South Beach was a truly diverse culinary paradise. Eliding a plethora of cuisines, with its daring fusion restaurants. And the beach boasted numerous fantastic restaurants, of all sorts, from Latin, to Asian, to American to Euro.

But the most delicious thing in South Beach, which was also the best scenery, was the walking works of art: the girls. Every sort of beautiful woman imaginable was in South Beach. The girls were even hotter than the climate. The Latinas, the South American ladies, and the European ladies there. Wow, wow, wow! They were immaculately beautiful! Cartoonishly beautiful! The Latin women with such impossibly perfect curves!

There were tons of models everywhere. Many agencies had headquarters in South Beach. So you’d see tall lovelies slinking and strutting all over.

(I found very little use for porn while living in South Beach. One only had to exit his/her dwelling, have functional vision and look around outside, especially at the beach, and the mind would be suitably stuffed with erotic imagery... )

The beach was one of the spots where the beautiful people would congregate, understandably, to flaunt their bodies. Because ... Why not? Why spend that time in the gym? Why diet? Why buy a bathing suit if you can’t wear it? And what’s South Beach without its beaches? In South Beach, the beach is the main attraction ... I was there every day, my six-pack on full display...

The beaches featured beautiful locals, tourists, topless sunbathers. It was packed with eye candy. But it was more than just a place to ogle flesh. There was life, activity of all types. Everyone from surfers, runners, swimmers, walkers, artists, musicians, dancers, yogis, and folks playing volleyball, Brazilians doing Capoeira.