Florida.
I've just been visiting it, you see. Largo/Clearwater to be precise.
Why would I do such a thing, you ask? Well, suffice to say that it wasn't exactly of my choosing and I hope I don't have to return any time soon. I really hope I don't have to return because the only thing that could drag me back there is if unfortunate circumstances dictated that I'd have to live there for the next few years. After this visit, I can safely say that I do not desire for it to come to that.
It started out well enough. Clearwater is, after all, a tourist town. It features all the attractions you might expect from a beach resort area.
Beaches, docks, sunsets, seabirds,
Touristy shops, boat rides, fancy hotels, parasailing, and so forth:
Basically: Things I Can Only Afford To Take Pictures Of.
Which, of course, left me with the time to explore the rest of the town. Setting the mood for this exploration, the weather turned to crap. Only a few days into my visit, the sun went away, leaving me with this:
I know for most people, a few days of cloudy weather are unremarkable, but I live in Arizona. Arizona is a place where, I am happy to say, more than two days in a row of gray would constitute an intolerable stretch of dreariness - most especially from a place which promises publicly to be "the sunshine state." That might seem esoteric to some of you, but try living in Arizona for a while and you'll understand.
As I would soon come to understand, this foul weather would not be out of place in the town that is Largo.
***
There's a common expression for small towns that are centered around a single attraction that draws out-of-towners, especially college towns, to describe the inhabitants that are outside the main attraction. That expression is: "Townies." It's not a flattering expression. And it fits Largo to a "T."
Take a turn off the tourist area down the appropriately named Belcher road,
...and you're greeted by a massive Budweiser distribution center. It's a compound fenced in by razor wire featuring row after row of trucks carrying cheap beer.
It's a sign of things to come.
The first thing that is apparant to an outside observer - e.g. a normal person - is that Largo is simply overrun with strip clubs, pawn shops, and pornography stores. If you're not on the direct tourist strip, then you cannot leave sight of one such establishment without entering the view of another.
Examples, and - believe me - these are only a small sampling:
And these places were packed with customers, even in the middle of the day when I was driving around.
But to say that the place is amok with perverts doesn't tell the whole story. To really understand Largo, you have to realize the extent to which they have devoted themselves to this, er, industry at the expense of all else.
Here is a telling sign:
Now what is it that you suppose this sign advertises? The term Mall summons to mind a large commercial shopping complex, centered around major department stores such as Macy's or Sears, connected together in a series of walking corridors. Usually as a self-contained building, but occasionally with the walkways being open to the outdoors. You know, a Mall:
But not in Largo. No, this is what you get:
A strip mall. A rather pathetic one with only five stores, as well. The only distinguishing feature between it and any of the other strip malls in the area, such as this one:
(designated appropriately, "plaza,")
...was that it wasn't at least twenty years old.
And this was not an isolated feature. See the Largo Mall here:
Yes, it has more than five stores, but it's still just a strip mall with a grocery store and a target. But to the citizens of Largo, this qualifies as a Mall. Perhaps it's for the best... if they called it a "strip mall," they would be overrun with confused Largoites who expect a, er, certain kind of establishment when they hear the word "strip."
Which cuts nicely to my next discovery.
Like most redneck towns, Largo of course features a Hooters.
This much makes sense. The pervs occasionally have to eat, and far be it from any of them to abate their lechery for long enough to grab some chicken wings. But one such establishment is not enough for them. They also feature a place called "WingHouse," which sounds innocent enough, but... well, just look at their billboard:
"Need we say more?" it inquires. No, I suppose not.
Two chicken-wings-and-lechery restaurants are not that enough, you say? Worry not, for Largo has you covered. Witness the next bit of "local color:"
"Mugs N' Jugs!"
"2 are better than 1," their billboards opine. Presumably, this is an innuendo of some sort, although upon reflection it rather fails in that regard. Who has "1?"
Unless...
Just how inbred are these people?
***
Okay, so they have a number of lechery-themed dining establishments. This much we know. But it doesn't stop there. Oh no, my friend, for I have saved the best for last. What could be better than "Mugs 'N Jugs?"
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present:
O'Boobigans Irish Bar and Grill.
Res ipsa loquitur.
Stay tuned for part 2, in which I detail hilarious miscellany witnessed in Florida.
-Inspector
