This is tourist mecca in Key West, the area known simply as "The One Hundred Block."
Stores sell crap to visitors, be they off cruise ships, docked a short walk away, or people who come to Key West under the strange delusion that this is the heart of a community, that in fact some of the community suffers Lower Duval rather than embraces it. 
When you consider the rent on one of these stores can be as much as thirty thousand dollars a month and they are selling everything for five dollars you have to ask yourself, what precisely is it they are really laundering here? It used to be that t-shirt shops offered to "customize" their wares and then charged the victim, surreptitiously something crazy like $300 on their credit cards for a logo printed on a cheap t-shirt. That scam got stomped but how they justify their ghastly stores these days I don't know. Nor do I care to.
But the visitors, they come and they keep coming. 
I saw a new crop of nuanced t-shirts with messages vaguely pornographic but mostly puerile in their humor. Perhaps it's time for me do another essay highlighting their literary efforts, and Key West's shame.
The absurd rental charges go a long way to explaining the diminutive sizes of some of the stores. The world's smallest bar justifies itself as a cute place to squeeze in and get a drink. The rent for the space has to be reasonable, surely?
The tourists and the touts aren't the only people on Lower Duval. Apart from yours truly, who is truly uncomfortable in this place there are the usual crop of bums. To call these people "homeless" is a disservice to the working poor and dispossessed on this island. These vagrants are proving that the First Amendment and subsequent Supreme Court rulings are alive and well in Key West, even if they seem to be under attack elsewhere in the Republic.
To be a bona fide palm weaver on Duval Street you need an actual Key West city permit. Buskers have them too, as does the guy featured recently in the paper who makes he says an average $150 a night telling "dirty jokes" to passers-by. When I get tired of taking 9-1-1 calls I know what my next job will be. 
Buy tickets, take an excursion, everything you want is available on Duval Street.
And even if you don't want it, touts will lunge out and collar you as you stroll by.
Art for commerce's sake.
Yup, I thought to myself, four drinks for the price of two, then I'll be ready to ride the scooter home...
There are chickens and pigeons on the street and sidewalks are crumbling. I miss First World America.
The idea of sitting on the crumbling sidewalk drinking in the sun sounds like a first class way to waste an afternoon, but perhaps that is the point.
She gave me the two-for-one tickets on my way down and I slid by on my way back up. It seems a ghastly way to earn a living to me. Of course in winter she will probably make more than I do working for the city in my "proper" job.
"Oh look! Sloppy Joe's!" Yup, our Norwegian friends here probably think that's exactly how it was when Hemingway drank in Key West. Never mind; they enjoy the delusion, we enjoy their money. Crass isn't it?
This is not a tourist wobbling on a bike for the first time in decades. this is a dedicated professional scurrying between his second and third jobs hauling lunch as he goes, smoothly and efficiently around town.
UPS even serves the Conch Republic in 90 degree heat.
This guy missed the trash can on his first toss. I was ready to get silently snarky but, good man! he went forward and caught his hoop on the second try.
A weird facade.
Get a photo with a parrot. If you guessed he needs an official city permit to do this you'd be a gold star student.
My wife says she wants her scooter back next week. I got the 150cc ET4 up to 73mph indicated on a downhill slope on US One this week with the wind at my back. That's a hot shit little Vespa, and it makes cool cat motorists mad when I sneak up and pass them on the open road...
On the other end of the speed drama conch trains are still plodding around town at 5 miles per hour. Mostly empty.
Roll on winter with it's bustle and it's crowds. That will make the One Hundred Block truly unbearable for one of my refinement and delicate sensibilities.
Stores sell crap to visitors, be they off cruise ships, docked a short walk away, or people who come to Key West under the strange delusion that this is the heart of a community, that in fact some of the community suffers Lower Duval rather than embraces it. When you consider the rent on one of these stores can be as much as thirty thousand dollars a month and they are selling everything for five dollars you have to ask yourself, what precisely is it they are really laundering here? It used to be that t-shirt shops offered to "customize" their wares and then charged the victim, surreptitiously something crazy like $300 on their credit cards for a logo printed on a cheap t-shirt. That scam got stomped but how they justify their ghastly stores these days I don't know. Nor do I care to.But the visitors, they come and they keep coming. 
I saw a new crop of nuanced t-shirts with messages vaguely pornographic but mostly puerile in their humor. Perhaps it's time for me do another essay highlighting their literary efforts, and Key West's shame.
The absurd rental charges go a long way to explaining the diminutive sizes of some of the stores. The world's smallest bar justifies itself as a cute place to squeeze in and get a drink. The rent for the space has to be reasonable, surely?
The tourists and the touts aren't the only people on Lower Duval. Apart from yours truly, who is truly uncomfortable in this place there are the usual crop of bums. To call these people "homeless" is a disservice to the working poor and dispossessed on this island. These vagrants are proving that the First Amendment and subsequent Supreme Court rulings are alive and well in Key West, even if they seem to be under attack elsewhere in the Republic.
To be a bona fide palm weaver on Duval Street you need an actual Key West city permit. Buskers have them too, as does the guy featured recently in the paper who makes he says an average $150 a night telling "dirty jokes" to passers-by. When I get tired of taking 9-1-1 calls I know what my next job will be. Buy tickets, take an excursion, everything you want is available on Duval Street.
And even if you don't want it, touts will lunge out and collar you as you stroll by.Art for commerce's sake.
Yup, I thought to myself, four drinks for the price of two, then I'll be ready to ride the scooter home...
There are chickens and pigeons on the street and sidewalks are crumbling. I miss First World America.
The idea of sitting on the crumbling sidewalk drinking in the sun sounds like a first class way to waste an afternoon, but perhaps that is the point.
She gave me the two-for-one tickets on my way down and I slid by on my way back up. It seems a ghastly way to earn a living to me. Of course in winter she will probably make more than I do working for the city in my "proper" job.
"Oh look! Sloppy Joe's!" Yup, our Norwegian friends here probably think that's exactly how it was when Hemingway drank in Key West. Never mind; they enjoy the delusion, we enjoy their money. Crass isn't it?
This is not a tourist wobbling on a bike for the first time in decades. this is a dedicated professional scurrying between his second and third jobs hauling lunch as he goes, smoothly and efficiently around town.
UPS even serves the Conch Republic in 90 degree heat.
This guy missed the trash can on his first toss. I was ready to get silently snarky but, good man! he went forward and caught his hoop on the second try.A weird facade.
Get a photo with a parrot. If you guessed he needs an official city permit to do this you'd be a gold star student.
My wife says she wants her scooter back next week. I got the 150cc ET4 up to 73mph indicated on a downhill slope on US One this week with the wind at my back. That's a hot shit little Vespa, and it makes cool cat motorists mad when I sneak up and pass them on the open road...
On the other end of the speed drama conch trains are still plodding around town at 5 miles per hour. Mostly empty.
Roll on winter with it's bustle and it's crowds. That will make the One Hundred Block truly unbearable for one of my refinement and delicate sensibilities.
12 comments:
Thank you for another enjoyable post. I look at Duvall--at Old town--to be like Bourbon Street and the Quarter in New Orleans. I mean, what are you going to do about it?
Enjoy your comments. Thanks again.
Embrace lower Duval. It is what it is. It's a spectacle that meets many needs. It's a physical manifestation of Riepe's most base (or best) qualities.
I always take the 2 for 1 drink tickets handed out at the Bull and use them later on as bookmarks. Always good for a smile in the depths of winter, clothing optional in the Garden of Eden on the roof!
Whenever I'm on Duval I feel a little like a clownfish among the sharks. They know- or think they know, that I'm just fish bait. But in some regards it's more honest than the tourist places that are in our mountains. They exist for the exact for the same purpose- but they are so cool and hip so chic. You want to shop here? A nice ski cap? $75. (probably more- I can't afford to go up there anymore). Fishbait for the rich or poor. Glad you survived the wilds of Duval!
Dear Sir:
Things in paradise look all right to me. About 18 days to your visit. I ordered fresh kitty litter for the floor of the garage, so your Triumph can leak oil in comfort. By fully inflating the tires of the K75, it should look down on your bike.
I have arranged to take you out for "bangers and mashed," on your first night here. (Filthy stuff.) And I think I can guarantee you a 16-bike escourt from Allentown.
Fondest regards.
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted
I practically lived on lower Duval when I was a teenager. Not sure how it is now, but at the time there really wasn't much to do in Key West for 16-18 year olds (besides going to school and studying like I should have been), so my friends and I smoked pot down on Simonton Beach and sat our lazy asses on the bench that used to be in front of the Tree Bar. Ah, the good ol' days.
I prefer to avoid Duval when I'm in town unless my wife wants to go shopping, but it's good to see once or twice a year since I don't live there anymore.
I remember Duval in the ewarly 80's and it was quite laid back. I am not comfortable in bars, I can't hear conversations and television with their distratcing flashing images suck up my attention. I feel bad for the touts and want to be polite but they bug me.
I sih I had thought of the 2-for-1's bookmarks. I shall have to go back and get more!
I prefer a can of Boddington's at home with Cheyenne and if available, my wife. Who is STILL in California watching people get married.
Glad to see there are 4 stools in the Smallest Bar. They were missing one when we were in there last April.
Mmmm Boddington's familar "ffssstt" upon opening.
The smallest bar is somewhere I will have to have a drink at some point. I am planning to have buffalo bill lead me on a tour of lower duval so I can get a proper appreciation for it.
jeffrey: I have a four pack in my fridge and I am OFF TOMMORROW NIGHT. Just me, Cheynne, Netflix and Boddington's Pub Ale. Fzzzt indeed.
Dear Sir:
For what it's worth, I can thnk of no better way to spend an afternoon than wedged against the "small" bar bar with you and "Buffalo Bill," who I may have inadvertantly insulted at some point.
Then again, a slightly larger bar with a performance artist, unfettered by clothing, has a certain appeal too.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
One year ago today we were headed home back to Texas from Key West. I agree, that part of Duval was my least favorite place on the island and we only went long enough to go to Mallory Square on evening to watch the sunset and another evening to get on the Sebago sunset cruise. We spent most of our time on Smather's Beach and exploring the neighborhoods less traveled. We are not the typical tourists. We love to see how the locals live.
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