Boiling/
Point

Content note: frank about sex in two places. Those stay folded until you tap. My Instagram captions run as I posted them.

Before: The story started before it was booked

I have three nights off and I’m thinking of flying somewhere, but I don’t know where. I kind of want to go near water, but I’m stuck. Somewhere queer friendly would be preferred.

AuDHD paralysis is pulling at nothing.

Then it popped into my head: Key West. I can fly round trip out of MKE for 28k miles to Fort Lauderdale. The drive down the causeway alone would be pretty great.

I can afford Alexander’s, and there’s one room left in budget.

I haven’t planned a trip for myself in 15 years. I’m looking forward to a little beach retreat in the home of Hemingway and Buffett. I am getting the chills and shivers thinking about this. It’s going to be magic. I’m not even going to tell anyone but Dalton. I’m just gonna go and start posting. My mom’s gonna flip.

Jimmy Buffett wrote “A Pirate Looks at 40.” This is A Queerdo Looks at 44.

AHHHHHHH!!!! Just got done booking for next week! Can’t wait to relax and celebrate freedom!!! This is gonna be the best divorce trip ever!!

I am not an itinerary person. I am a wake-up-and-figure-out-what-I’m-starting-today person. I actually don’t have a single thing planned. I didn’t do a ton of research. I just know I’m going to the ocean on a breathtaking drive alone. This trip is all about the meander.

Almost packed for a gay getaway. I can’t wait to get on island time.

Tuesday: Mile 160 to Mile 0

The 6 a.m. flight out of Milwaukee, through D.C., and into Fort Lauderdale just after noon. A rental, and Route 1 south.

You didn’t tell me I go through Miami! I thought I was south of there. I wasted too much time in Miami traffic. I should have gotten on the Turnpike sooner. I just don’t like traffic.

I’m gonna save Card Sound Road for the drive back. Robert’s will be enough.

It’s almost four o’clock, and sunset’s not till after eight, so I’ve got plenty of time.

Then the tarpon at Robbie’s, a $4 bucket of fish and a near finger-loss.

Fed the tarpon. Seven Mile Bridge was so cool. Hotel ETA 7:40.

I especially loved crossing the Seven Mile Bridge and seeing the spots where the old bridge was broken, where they filmed True Lies, one of my favorite movies.

Alexander’s Guesthouse, Room 11. Roosters, a porch with rocking chairs, a pool at dusk.

I was just wandering down the street, and I got on Duval and realized Duval wasn’t it for me. So I went to the side streets instead and found this amazing little shop called Lost Boy Creations. It was the first place I went. It was still open. I went back like four times.

Wednesday: The booking mistake

Coffee on the porch first, watching the street wake up.

Wednesday started with the Hemingway House. That was the only thing on my agenda for the day. I’d stopped at the front desk because I wanted to go snorkeling on Thursday, and as he was booking, he accidentally booked it for Wednesday instead. So I was like, oh, okay. Well, I guess I’m gonna go to the Hemingway House and then come back. Whatever. I didn’t care. He felt really bad, but I was like, I don’t care.

Because look what happened then. On the sailing charter there were maybe ten other people on the tour, and half of them were couples. So I’m sitting at the front of the boat with the two other solo travelers, and we just bonded on this three-hour tour. And now I’m friends with The Painter. She’s from Peru, she lives in Denver, she was staying at the Hyatt Centric for a couple days because she was painting murals, and she’s a tattoo artist. So now I get to go get a tattoo from her when I visit Denver.

First time snorkeling. Schools of yellow jack over the reef.

I frickin LOVE Key West.

Sunset at the Sunset Tiki Bar. Jerico’s band was playing, and I was asked to come on stage and sing with the band.

Hidey hidey hidey ho.

I was at Captain Tony’s after singing with the band, and then I was walking down the street and heard The Musician, another one from Captain Tony’s. I stood out on the street listening to him because I had a full beer, and I was just grooving. He saw me, and I saw him, and we were making eye contact, and I was just like, this is amazing. I went in and sat down next to Musician and talked to his friend, who came over and sat down, and then all of a sudden behind me The Pirate walks up. Full-on pirate. Introduced himself as Pirate. But he was so much more than that. Turns out he’s from, get this, Lake Delton, Wisconsin. I ended up just spending the night with them.

Mission: a pirate name by dawn.

Back at Alexander’s, in the pool, I met Vera and Lou, who were just the most wonderful people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.

Thursday: Long-ass legs

Which beach is Key West’s unofficial nude beach again?

It’s Thursday afternoon and I’ve made my way to the fort. Just spooked an iguana on the way to the beach.

The only time I hesitated for a second was the swim brief. I got a swim brief for the first time. I’ve never worn a swim brief before, and I felt really fucking good in it when I went in the pool. And I went to the beach with it on, not knowing what the crowd on the beach was gonna be like, and it was a little family-ish, but I didn’t care. I was like, I’m here. I’ve got long-ass legs, and I’m gonna show them off.

We got a tarot reading from The Psychic at Mallory Square at sunset, me and two of my new friends from the hotel. And it was just perfect. Psychic knew exactly who I was, and none of it was a surprise, but everything was exactly what the cards have been telling me in my readings at home.

Right before I sat down for the reading, I opened Instagram for one of the first times all day, because I’ve only really been posting and not engaging. I don’t have time. But that’s okay. And one of the first things I saw was the call for new board members of the Brady Street Business District board. And I asked Psychic, you know, which I already knew the answer to: I have so many ideas, and I have a hard time moving on any of them. She said, just take action.

That was one of the coolest things to hear. I just feel released. I feel like a different person.

Friday: You gotta start somewhere

I left my car parked in front of the inn so I could go get my tattoo and see the city one last time.

Cleopatra Ink. They’d only been open a week.

The Key West Mile 0 highway sign, the one at the end of Fleming Street, Alexander’s street. Mile Zero. The mile marker for everyone, because you gotta start somewhere.

I went back to the inn to use the bathroom and fill my water bottle, and The Bartender from the last couple nights of happy hour was there, and I got to talk to her and say goodbye one last time. That was so wonderful. I showed her my tattoo, and she started crying right away. She was like, I love my island so much. So I’m happy to see this.

It was so, so valuable.

And I’m wearing my Lost Boy Creations tank top. Mags asked me about it today. She’s like, how did you know to go there? And I was like, I don’t know. It was the first place I went. It was still open.

She’s like, thank you.

What do you think my pirate name would be?

I’m on the Seven Mile Bridge right now on the way home. I’m driving north, so I have the Atlantic on my right and the Gulf on my left, and the old bridge on my left. Hearing that it used to be a railroad bridge that was converted into a roadway is really impressive. And it’s hard to understand how that was a two-lane bridge. It doesn’t look like two lanes would have fit on it.

I just came off the crest of Seven Mile Bridge, and I’m seeing Pigeon Key on the left.

I’m crying. I got a tattoo today.

I’m feeling pretty awesome. I’m crying right now as I’m coming off the bridge. This has just been one of the most incredible journeys I’ve ever been on. I met so many incredible people over the last few days, and this was just the trip I needed to remind myself that I will always be okay. Always. No matter what.

I’m just sobbing.

I’m so happy. I’m so proud of myself for everything I’ve been through. I barely listened to music over the last several days, because the island was enough. I followed the music everywhere I needed to go. It led me to some really amazing people and stories.

I made so many friends this week. It’s ridiculous. I haven’t made that many friends in a short period of time in forever. I can’t wait to visit them when I travel again. Vera and Lou are from Saint Petersburg. I have wanted to go to Saint Petersburg. It was just so easy to talk to people.

It’s just been fucking magical.

This is a drive you only need to make once.

I’m glad I made the choice to do Card Sound Road on the way out and stop at Alabama Jack’s for an early dinner, because Key Largo is gross. This is not what I wanna remember leaving the Keys.

I’m gonna be getting to Fort Lauderdale around sunset, so it’s not gonna be the coast side, but the sunset will still be gorgeous. And I’ve got a sunrise in the morning from my hotel room.

Saturday: Sunset Reverse

Sunrise over the Atlantic from the room.

I’ve never really appreciated Hemingway. I found The Sun Also Rises incredibly boring in Junior AP Lit. Here I am two pages into Old Man and the Sea, three days from meeting his ghost — sobbing, already wondering if I’ll end up a barnacled Santiago, hanging onto hope that kindness, grace, and a little push from the universe can salvage what the wrecker left behind from the Before Decaf.

Something changed in me this trip. I felt seen in a way I never have — because I allowed myself to be.

Dope Furnace was built on hurricane resilience. When this pirate looked at 40, I saw a shell of the barge I used to helm, stripped for parts by the wrecker MidCentury Nightmare. What I didn’t see yet was what gets built after the storm passes.

Solo travel can be lonely. #QueerJoy is resistance anyway. I’ve got zero fucks left to give and an ocean view to prove it.

On the way to the airport, Wilton Manors. Leatherwerks. I walked in apprehensive, and I walked out in a tank top, comfortable and welcomed, thinking about the space I want to build at home: Safe To Understand and Defy Yourself. S.T.U.D.Y.

I cried a lot today. I booked this vacation on points and a whim a week ago because I had a few extra days off work and an itch to see the sea.

I did not expect to go on the first vacation with myself in 16 years and find parts of me I didn’t know existed yet. I left FL today more confident in myself than I ever have.

I cried a lot on this trip actually. At sunsets. And rainbow pickets. Swimming along schools of Yellow Jack over one of the three Great Barriers. Cresting 7 Mile (both ways). With new friends who cried first.

And now. Arriving home after treating myself to First Class for the first time ever, after investing in myself on credit over the last year.

Do people tip flight attendants? I’ve never flown first before, and I had a lovely meal.

I’m haunted by a lot of ghosts (I think one jerked off with me last night?) and #Milwaukee is full of some nightmares.

South Florida was nothing but a dream.

#Divorce sucked, but it doesn’t anymore. I’ve got some thinking to do. Love youse.

After: Crepuscular

I’m home.

Lost in the clouds post deplane. 5 days of adrenaline and dopamine - gone; down a freight train drain. What’s the word for an animal active at twilight? That’s my brain.

Thank you for joining me from Mile 0 for sunrise, sunset, and somewhere in between.

It was really lovely seeing so much love from all of you throughout my Flâneurial Daze. Every little buzz in my pocket reminded me that traveling solo didn’t mean I was alone.

More a part than among these days; always at sunset and sunrise.

It’s not the same. I hope when Dalton gets home in an hour that will change, but last night was a little weird. I didn’t feel like I came home.

Later: everything feels right again. Dalton and I are not good with texting.

On a notebook page, under the heading “Everything on Seven Mile”: Brady Street as Milwaukee’s first official queer neighborhood. An LGBTQ history walk. A gift from Milwaukee for Mags. A letter to Alexander’s.

Mile Zero. You gotta start somewhere.