Pet Parrots in Starbucks: Only in Florida

‘Merica. The deserts of Nevada, the long winding roads of Route 66, the scores upon scores of vast and varied national parks… yeah. That sounds incredible, right? Right.

But not all of the States is that… awe-inspiring. Touching down in South Florida six or seven times to visit yachting-work-things over the past few years, Fort Lauderdale, Miami and Palm Beach have been my only tastes of the U! S! A! so far which, needless to say, has given me a bit of a skewed view of the country. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but these are all such, well, strange places. The beaches are beautiful and the weather is delicious. But. But, but, but. The food is overly abundant and terrible, cheap, colourful alcohol almost runs from the taps, and the gigantic roads are laden with absolute monsters of vehicles – to name but three of a long list of questionable Floridian attributes. And the people! I mean… there were overly-friendly old men with pet parrots just hanging out in Starbucks. Just a regular Thursday morning in Florida. 

You know, actually… I did quite like the parrot. But, regardless. Maybe it’s just because I’ve only snatched a few days of real vay-cay time throughout all of these visits, but, Florida? You are not for me. 

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