Department of Serious Fun
Postcards from Downtown
Jessica Boudreaux
JLo had “the 6”. I have the Omni Loop.
The Miami Metromover stops behind my building and I take it regularly. About half of those trips are with my friend David to run errands, bargain shop or do yoga. The Omni Loop is the line that gets us home.
David and I met at yoga on the 9th floor of my building, though he actually lives in the building next door. Tall, handsome, David has a thick head of gorgeous salt and pepper hair and a great tan. He has a few unusual qualities for a friend to a single thirty-something girl like me, namely that he’s married and a conservative Jew in his fifties. But never mind that, he’s also fun, funny, and stays abreast of cheap entertainment nearby, all of which meet my minimum requirements for friendship.
Unlike the rest of us who rush in and out of a shop, David loves a good conversation with strangers, and because he’s recently retired, takes his time getting to know the myriad of people selling random wares in Downtown Miami. As an added bonus, many of them are also Jews from around the world. We have exchanged downtown contacts for everything from shoe and jewelry repair to gift wrapping, all at a bargain. It now feels like a little community.
It Used to Be There
Some time ago, David texted me: “La Epoca is closing for good and having a closeout sale. Let’s go see if they have any good deals. Lobby 5 mins?” We met, crossed NE 2 Ave and took the escalator up to the Metromover and headed to La Epoca, a department store that had been opened by a Cuban immigrant 51 years ago in the corner of 2nd Ave. and Flagler St., in the old Walgreens building.
We entered and were hit with the familiar, welcoming, and stale smell of old buildings. Within moments, David had met the grandson of the owner, who owned a boutique nearby. Meanwhile, I discovered on the 2nd-floor rows of mannequins: male, female, high-gloss red and grey mannequins!
I’ve always wanted a mannequin because sometimes I do eBay sales, and without a mannequin or a model, selling clothing is difficult. I was very excited to find these and rushed downstairs to find out how much they cost. David was talking to Randy, the grandson. “I hate to take advantage when people are down,” David was saying, “but I love a good bargain.” Randy explained his grandfather had sold the building for millions, “Don’t worry, he did well.”
Pet Mannequin
As the three of us went upstairs to negotiate the price of my mannequin, I decided to stick with white for simplicity. Meanwhile, David became fascinated with the lacquered grey male model. Randy broke them down into pieces and placed them in two large boxes.
I suggested getting a car and hauling them in the trunk, but thinking that the boxes were too big, David insisted we drag them back onto the Metromover. So there we were dragging our 3-feet tall boxes for two blocks up NE 2 Ave. to the First Street Station.
Strange glances were thrown our way from fellow passengers as we boarded the Metromover hauling huge boxes filled with body parts. As a passenger on public transportation, however, you see and smell lots of unusual things. No one said a word until we finally got off at the 11th Street Station. A salty homeless man approached in silence to look into David’s box. He reached out a weathered hand and cupped the lacquered grey mannequin’s manhood for an awkward moment, and looking up at us proclaimed: “Crotch.” Then he walked away.
We dragged our boxes into the elevator and across NE 2 Ave. to our own boxes in the sky and unpacked and assembled what would later become Richard and Tabitha. During the holidays I texted David: “I asked Tabitha to make me a hot chocolate and she told me to go screw myself.” David: “Richard is a Hasidic nudist and he hangs out in my guest room.” Laughter… Again, a minimum requirement.
Jessica Boudreaux is a downtown resident and owner of the interior design Boudreaux Design Studio.
