Bottomless brunch at Tap 42: The ultimate temptress.
Bottomless brunch at Tap 42: The ultimate temptress.
Christina Mendenhall

The Perils of Boozy Brunching in Fort Lauderdale

Brunch is a beautiful, wonderful thing; a heroine of meal-time concepts, a weekend hangover savior. It’s the light that gives you hope in those morning-after moments when you wake up smelling like Jameson and regret. Tap 42? AmSo? Coconuts? Boozy brunch in Fort Lauderdale is always a good idea.

Or is it? From embarrassing drunken run-ins with family friends to afternoon showers ending in a busted chin and five stitches at urgent care, allow me to count down the perils of boozy brunching in our fair city of Fort Lauderdale.

8. Opting to bike to/from brunch will not save you from a DUI.
You may feel like a put-together adult when you opt to ride your bike or blade to bottomless at Louie Bossi's with the #squad. As you glide along Las Olas in your trendy new Lulu top and Ray-Ban wayfarers, catching rays on your way over, all you can think is how this Saturday is about to be your bitch. Your inebriated journey to the next bar, on the other hand, might be a different story. Just remember: Alcohol is a blood thinner, and biking while under the influence is still a crime.

7. "Bottomless" is a lie.
There is a bottom, and you will reach it. First at 3 p.m., when the mimosas let up, and then again at 3 a.m., when you enter the bedroom of the jerk who gave you chlamydia last year.

6. The battle royal that ensues around 2:45 p.m.
Any boozy bruncher is familiar with the feeling: the intense pangs of anxiety and fear that kick in when everyone at the restaurant starts realizing unlimited alcohol is coming to an end. Suddenly, it’s ten minutes until cutoff and your server is nowhere to be found. All glasses and bottles on the table are empty and you're barely even tipsy, you convince yourself, growing more and more panicked over not getting your $15 worth. When this happens, just remember to take a deep breath and wait your turn. There's plenty more cheap booze where that came from — this is Fort Liquordale.

5. Hidden costs.
One minute you’re deciding between a bloody or a mimosa, eggs Benedict or lemon ricotta pancakes, and next thing you know, $15 turns into 15 hours of sweet, hazy, shit-faced adventure time. You end up losing equal amounts of money and dignity from shotgunning $50 worth of PBR in front of Beach Place with some girl named Bunny and her boyfriend, whom you met an hour before, when they told you and your boyfriend you were a "good-looking couple." 
4. Normal (i.e. nonalcoholic) people enjoy brunch too.
Just as the sun makes it easier to spot the grenades, it also makes it easier for your ex’s parents, your dad's boss, your mom's Pilates friend — anyone else you desperately don’t want to run into while turning up in broad daylight — to spot you and flag you down from across the patio. Avoid these excruciatingly awkward stop-and-chats by avoiding boozy brunch altogether.

3. The dangerous transition from day to night.
Say you've successfully made it through all of the above brunching obstacles. You've lined your stomach with greasy foods, you're seriously buzzing off Champagne, and you and your friends have decided on a solid plan of action for the remainder of this glorious Saturday. You managed to safely navigate yourself home on your rollerblades, and now all that's left to do is freshen up for the night. This is where you must pause and make an important decision, because though showering while drunk may seem like a fantastic idea, slipping in the tub and bleeding out all over your bathroom is not a fun time. 

2. Dogs.
Everyone loves dogs. Anyone who doesn’t probably won’t be at brunch, because they clearly don't like fun. I absolutely love dogs, which means that drunk-me really, really, really loves dogs and will insist on petting your dog, even if all signs point to "Itwillbiteyouville." This can become perilous when that guy brings his English bulldog puppy to Tap because he's discovered it’s a fantastic way to score. He’s certainly not going to tell me it bites when I skip up, mimosa splashing in one hand, the other reaching straight for its adorable little head. This is how you mess up a finger or two and end up walking into work like Edward Band-Aid hands on Monday. Not a cute look.

1. Brunch is a gateway drug.
While you set out at high noon for nothing more than a few bright, sunny hours of hangover handling with your close friends over gossip, it never quite ends there. Your nighttime plans to hit up Beer Olympics at Tarpon will either get canceled because you’ve passed out by 5 p.m. or they’ll end up much wilder than you wanted, because your blood-alcohol level is 3.0 and your alter ego has officially taken over, leading you straight on top of the bar at America's Backyard. There is no in-between. 

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