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Stuck in South Florida: Losing My Fourth of July Virginity

Lyndsay Anderson is a Scottish woman and culinary expert living the expat life in South Florida. Every week, she'll share her innermost thoughts about our tropical-tinged foods, rum-soaked drinks, and all-around curious habits.

Saturday 3rd July

Dear Diary,

After years of trying, I'm going to lose my 4th of July virginity! How

exciting for me, a European, to be in America for this National

holiday. I hope it's going to be like it is in the movies.  There's

going to be fireworks, right? 

Tuesday 6th July

Dear Diary,

There was so much alcohol involved that I hardly remember a thing!  Sure, there were fireworks, but the event was a washout.

On Sunday morning we looked at the program of events in Delray Beach and it was boasting a Beautiful Baby contest, so we decided to get out of town and come back for the highly anticipated fireworks show at night. 

Our day trip took us to Fort Lauderdale with the promise of a barbecue and beers on the beach. We arrived in Fort Liqourdale just as a monsoon was driving everyone from the beach and into the nearest bar for shelter. We ducked into a jam-packed Dirty Blondes bar for a bucket of cold beer and plenty of people-watching. This was my first time in Dirty Blondes, and I'd describe it as "unique" and not the kind of wholesome all-American scene that I had mentally envisioned for the 4th of July.  It was like a college party meets a wet T-shirt competition. Wait a minute, it was just like Spring Break! 

Girls were exchanging bikini tips, parading their wares, and eating vodka-soaked gummi bears in the ladies toilet, and guys were slamming Jager bombs and chanting "FSU!" at the bar.  We left Dirty Blondes as the storm was subsiding and were led up a back alley, past statues of pirates and into the rain-soaked Pirate Republic. A group of girls that looked like the reserve team from a Victoria's Secrets campaign were ably amusing the crowds in their star-spangled bikinis, and guys were practicing their punches on a Boxer machine. The walls are covered in scribbles, and pirate paraphernalia hangs from the ceiling, but the barmaid was friendly and pouring glasses of something that resembles sake. Before we knew it, the hours were creeping on, we had not eaten a thing, and we were thumping our fists on the bar and slamming back shots.  

Well, my 4th of July cherry has been popped, and it wasn't quite what I had in mind. I thought that the streets would be awash with red, white, and blue and that we would all be singing the national anthem. But the reality is, I drank more than I should have, the weather was uncooperative, and once you have seen one set of fireworks, you have seen them all.

Here's to next year! 

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Lyndsay Anderson
Contact: Lyndsay Anderson

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