A True Story

Here’s a true story that I wrote way back when I was working on the t.v. show Miami Vice – Geoff

LORRAINE

By
Geoffrey Zimmerman

I love you, Lorraine. I haven’t seen you in years and years. And, most assuredly I will never see you again. Before I met you, I know no one had ever said these words to you. Maybe by now they have, but I’ll never be sure. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I know you are selfless, unquestionably devoted, and maybe someone cares. I do.

Ah, to live in Miami. The biggest vacation hot spot on the East coast, and probably the country. I live in a bungalow in Coconut Grove. Not a town, but an official village, just south of Miami proper, directly across the bay from Miami Beach.

I sit along the sidewalk, (on the sidewalk, actually), at the local bar, The Village Inn, taking it all in. I wear a Speedo and twist in my seat, the white wrought iron chair pinching my bare thighs, and peer down Grove Avenue. I can easily make out the bench where I sat two years ago, alone, drunk, thinking deep thoughts of what was to lie in the future. So ironic.

My first night in this town. I came to the Village Inn with my brother, his girlfriend, (at the time), and their friend, Hope. We drank, laughed and danced to Jimmy Buffet. I had drank too much and was feeling dizzy, so I came outside to clear my head, and sat myself down at that bench. My first night in town. I peered left down the road, then right, then left again. Left seemed more interesting to me. I wondered what lay that direction. Now I know. I’ve been living on that road for a year now. I walk that road in a skimpy bathing suit and flip flops to go to the store to buy cigarettes.

I’ll never forget that first night in town.

Down that road. …The waitress pulls my… continue reading.