Austin R.
Yelp
Oh! sweet glorious Ted. Why did it take me so long to fall into your warm embrace? Like a lost child on a hot south beach night, you took me in, nurtured me, and made me one of your own.
There must be some reason why they call this place the "Hideaway." Perhaps it is for those who wish to remain unseen by the normal folk - the daywalkers not shunned by society for their failure to conform. Or maybe it materialized as a last refuge for the lost ones. Those seeking to evade the overwhelming glamour, pricing, and debauchery of Ocean Drive.
I for one see the Hideaway as a sort of cosmic melting pot. A place where 10 a.m. feels like midnight and every drunk and disorderly patron is a wisened sage. Where the nicotine-filled air floats above the pool table like fog rolling over a green meadow. And the sticky, booze-soaked bar top glistens like polished mahogany. Yes, my friends. We've all been to this place before. Either during a recent visit to Miami or in some long-forgotten, distant dream of yesteryear.
I don't need to review the menu or drink list because, quite frankly, you'll order exactly what you want every time. And it will be cold, refreshing, cheap, and glorious. The nectar of the gods, brought down from Mount Olympus by Mister Ted himself for our enjoyment.
Hopefully we shall meet again sometime, Ted. But until then, cheers.