Life, they say, is a bitch, but if you are heading to Miami for the Winter Party, it’s a beach — a giant oceanfront dance floor in ultra-glamorous South Beach.
To the east, the gentle waves of the Atlantic Ocean lap up to the shore only a few yards from you; to the west is the deco-and-neon skyline of Ocean Drive; and all around you are thousands of hot, muscular men packed into tiny swimsuits or gym shorts — along with a generous smattering of equally scantily clad bodacious women.
As the music wafts over you, you close your eyes and tell yourself, “This has to be a dream. A dream, or I’ve died and gone to heaven, because no place and nothing on earth is this good.” Then you reopen your eyes and realize that the dance floor sprawling over the beach is real, and all of those men are very, very real.