Friday, 10 January 2014. South Beach

A heavy breakfast at Enriqueta’s. Dirk had never been there for b’fast, so we went today. Steak, ham, eggs and a pile of French fries. (I only had a few, though they were good, piping hot from the fryer. I left a mound of them uneaten.) Cuban coffee and Cuban toast as well. (Only had a bite of the toast. Keeping the starches to a minimum.)

Dirk then took me down to fetch my Eos car from the dealership in the Gables. Was able to get back before the Friday traffic built up. Continued work from home.

On the way back, I got a text from Montanto asking that I drop off $200 to him on Ocean Drive where he was drinking (with his friend Foppy) at a terrible tourist bar, Wet Willie’s. (They go there a lot.) He took the whole day off from designing my travel books, again. (Last night at Avom he told me he’d be working on my projects all day. I got nothing from him. Nothing.) I took him the money but masked my anger.

I had planned a dinner with Guiscard Salisbury and his boyfriend Abilio for tonight but forgot about it. Reminded by Guiscard, I quickly invited Dirk because I knew he’d want to be invited.

We met at my house at 7 for some cheese and chips, salsa and Champagne, before walking over to Joe’s Corner. I took a bottle of my wine. Luckily, the chef was there and I gave him a taste. I asked him to use his influence on Joe to get him to add us to the wine list. He said he’d try.

As we were sitting down, Leroy Griffith came in with a large party. Leroy owns the strip club Madonna here on South Beach that was just today shut down for 6 months for allowing a 13-year-old girl to dance naked. He says he didn’t know anything about it, that some guys had got her in there somehow.

Leroy must be 83 or 84. Rumor has it that he was a front man for the mob and controlled strip clubs from here up the western coast of Florida all the way to New Orleans, but I don’t know anything about that.

When Madonna lived in the Grove many years ago, she of course spent time partying on South Beach because nothing happens in the Grove worth doing. Her people sued Leroy for calling his place “Club Madonna.” In court, Leroy raised his eyes to heaven and told the judge he’d named his strip club after a “higher Madonna.” Or something along those lines.

Case was dismissed.

Guiscard had the boeuf bourguignone, Abilio had the trout and Dirk and I had steak frites.

Abilio finished his trout quite fast. I didn’t want all my food, so I insisted he have some of it. I cut off a large piece of my steak and put it on his plate. A pained expression on his face made me realize he was unable to cut it, his right arm being still very weak from the stroke he suffered. I quickly reached over and cut the meat into bite-sized pieces.

Guiscard (he’s a stage director) leaves Monday for several days for some theatre business in New York. Abilio wants to take me to dinner at Sylvano, this cozy little Italian place over on Liberty Avenue I’ve been trying to take them for some time.

Since Joe is a German (or Austrian), the restaurant has strudel, so I insisted they share a piece. They loved it. I picked up the check. $180 with tip.

Guiscard and Dirk walked ahead of us after we left, as Abilio tends to lag behind because he can’t walk fast anymore.

(Dirk told me later that Guiscard remarked that he was upset that Abilio had gotten fat. Dirk thought that observation was somewhat insensitive. Guiscard was used to having a hot and talented Latin boyfriend 20 years younger than he and now he’s saddled with a stroke victim who’s getting fat and can’t pull his own weight. Certainly a situation tailor-made to test one’s love, no? What’s one to do?)

Home by 11, where I continued to proof/rewrite K/6.

WEIGHT: 279.

NEW WORK: none.

DAYS NOT DRINKING: 4.