Summers in Miami offered countless adventures for teenaged boys when I was a member of that over-amped ilk back in the Fifties. We often headed for Miami Beach and the long row of glitzy hotels along the ocean. We’d park at a public beach, then walk along the water’s edge until we arrived at the beginning of a row of hotels. From the beach, we could then get into the large and alluring hotel pools where we hoped to meet teenaged girls who were staying at the hotel with their families for summer vacation.
The life guards that worked at these places were always on the lookout for interlopers such as us and somehow were very good at spotting us as non-guests at the hotel. That’s when we’d get the boot and, not too chastised, move down the beach and into the pool of the next hotel. If we got lucky, we’d make a date to meet a girl at one of the many dances and similar activities put on in the evenings at the hotels to entertain the young visitors, thus freeing up the parents to pursue their own adult pleasures.
My friend Ronnie and I almost never took anyone else with us. Two guys by themselves stood a much better chance of success, not to mention that we drew less attention to ourselves than would have been the case with more guys along. A bored teenaged girl forced to go on vacation with her family is anxious to find some entertaining diversion. Irresponsible young Lotharios that we were, we were happy to provide the opportunity to enhance their vacation experience.
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