Pompano Beach, FLA

I traveled to Pompano Beach due to a familial obligation without performing any planning except for plane, rental car, and hotel reservations. Therefore, I had not planned on blogging as I was unsure if there would be enough meat on the bone to warrant a legitimate Report.

Well, either there was, or I just can’t help myself.

I flew into Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood International Airport (FLL), which is noteworthy because of all the rental car companies that are available to those landing here. At time of reserving via Expedia, by my count, 26 different companies were serving the 17th busiest airport in the U.S., ranging from the usual (Hertz), to the mispronouncable (Easirent), to the even more mispronouncable (Sixt),¹ to the unpronounceable (NÜ), to the ridiculous (Rent-A-Wreck), and the just plain offensive (Mex Rent A Car).

What caught my eye more than the number of rental car outfits was the number of ridiculously low prices, with an outfit called Greenmotion offering me a car for $8 per day (tax inc.). While I was very sorely tempted to book an $8 car, purely for journalistic purposes, I decided to go with a known outfit, with a similarly ridiculous name . . . Thrifty, for $36 per day. This was done mainly because my Thrifty rental car could be picked up at the Rental Car Center (RCC), which was connected to Terminal 1 (where my Southwest flight deplaned) by a short pedestrian bridge. All of the other lower-priced cars required a shuttle bus to some place off the airport.

While Greenmotion received a 24% rating, I took some comfort in Thrifty receiving a considerably higher rating . . . 57%, which I correctly figured as being almost double!

It appears though, that while Thrifty may have lived up to its rating, it definitely lived up to its name, as my 2020 Chevy Trax was delivered with only 7/8 of a tank of gas. After I discussed this with a very surely gate attendant ("eff you Veronica!"), we were off.

Sustenance

Our next-door neighbors at our lodgings mentioned they visit Pompano Beach often and “always eat at the place across the street.” When asked the name of the place, they didn't know it but emphasized that "It's right across the street." I found it odd, as I had previously reconnoitered the area around our lodgings, and there wasn't a restaurant to be found, and if it was so great, why couldn't they remember the name? The husband subsequently hand-delivered a menu for the Seaside Grill.

We subsequently located the place after a 10-minute walk down the street. There was an upside though: its name was actually the Seaside Grill & Tiki Bar, and who isn't down for a tiki bar? Unfortunately, the tiki bar in question was less tiki (no torches, drinks in a coconut shell or bamboo cup, totem poles, or thatched roof) and more tacky (plastic cups, chairs, and roof). We chose to eat at the grill.

The meal was fine and economical, except for some confusion about the potato that was ordered and the cost of payment. The former had to do with sweet vs. non-sweet, and the latter with a 4.52% credit card surcharge. When I mentioned to the manager that there was nothing on the menu about it (the surcharge not the sweetness of the potato), she replied that there was a (small) sign on the door that stated, "We apply a price adjustment on credit transactions that is not greater than our cost of acceptance." It didn't seem very fair to me, but I was thankful there was not another sign on the door that said, "We apply a kick in the jimmies to any customer who complains about the credit card price adjustment."

The manager mentioned that she started applying the adjustment after COVID. When I asked if it was due to a fee increase, she said, "No, I did it to make more money." While I appreciated the honesty, I didn't appreciate the hospitality.

According to Yelp, the Beach House is the 2nd best restaurant in Pompano Beach and offered us our best dining experience: An outdoor bar that overlooks the Pompano Beach Fisher Family Pier, a delicious Caesar salad with wood-fired romaine lettuce and a very cold Yuengling (him), Heineken (her) - a Beer O'clock moment.

Oceanic occupies an adjacent, strikingly modern and soaringly large three-story building. It's so large that it could make one wonder how they could adequately serve so many dinners. It no longer makes me wonder though, as after asking that our Caesar salad, conch chowder, and whole branzino be served simultaneously, a branzino fillet was incorrectly delivered and therefore returned, leaving my well-laid-out meal plan in shambles. It didn't help that they started vacuuming the place while we were still eating. All partially mollified by a damn good Bulleit bourbon Flackhattan.

Two very generous subscribers took us to dinner at the Harbor House at the Boca Raton, where we feasted on appetizers overlooking Lake Boca Raton. I then had a delicious Chicken Caesar Trappizzino. Now the reader may ask, as I did, "What the hell is a trappizzino?" Well, it's a baked pizza dough folded to enclose a filling,³ in this case, a pre-masticated Caesar salad and pieces of tender chicken. BTW: The Boca Raton is a private club, so if you want a Chicken Caesar Trappizzino, start your own blog and get a subscriber to invite you.

Coffee

The Friendsesque How You Brewin'? for an Americano and the fluffiest oatmeal cookie ever eaten. The price of an Americano equaled the price of a cup of drip coffee, which doesn't make sense to me, and made me ask the obvious question, "Why would anyone not get an Americano?"

The Dandee Donut Factory is the anti-Dunkin Donuts, an inviting space, staffed by people who give a shit, with shelves filled with large tasty donuts, which are sold without any confusion.² They even serve the toasted coconut donut, which I thought went extinct in the aughts.

The Jupiter Getaway

Jupiter is a town located about an hour north of Pompano, known of course, for the Battles of the Loxahatchee during the Second Seminole War and for good eats.

Joe Namath is part-owner of Lucky Shuck, which is kind of cool, though it would have been cooler if this were 1969 (or if Broadway Joe was doing the shucking). Fresh oysters (Blue Points and Mamma Mias) and cold beer in a classy bar open on three sides to Intracoastal⁴ breezes.

Even though U-Tiki Beach has a very nice thatched roof, making it slightly more authentic than the Seaside, it lacked coconut shell/bamboo drink containers, the pole, or Hawaiian music. It made me wonder if there should be an executive order requiring a certain amount of tikiness before the word tiki can be included in a bar's name. The guy next to me at the bar volunteered that he just attended the same church as Michael Jordan, which was kind of interesting and kind of weird. Good views of the Jupiter Inlet Light and a bad chicken Caesar salad.

With a final stop at 1000 North, called by the locals "North of 1000" due to its prices. We went with a $30 Shrimp cocktail, which had a nice snap but then a disappointing mealiness on the back end. I asked Mrs. AAR to give it a letter grade, to which she replied, "N.H." "What does that mean?" I questioned. "Not Happy!" she answered. Pleasant service and views, though a little boring.

Lodgings

The Seahorse Guesthouse wasn't so much a house as a motor lodge that had been updated and painted pink. The place was very clean, though a bit tight. The bathroom, while a little dated, was still quite serviceable, though I had to ask Mrs. AAR the color of the wall tiles. They were subsequently determined to be “mint green,” and whoever installed them in 1953 did a fine job.

The owner, Darren, and I got into it a little bit about politics, unhelped by the fact that we had both been drinking. When I mentioned that "we should just agree to disagree," and then walked away, he yelled after me, "That's right, walk away, like you always do . . . bye, bye."

Mrs. AAR then inquired if I asked Darren about how to cast my phone to the tv so we could watch the latest episode of Bosch: Legacy. I replied, "No, I didn't, and I don't think that's going to be possible."

She subsequently brokered a tentative peace with Darren, which had the two of us shaking hands, and more importantly, him providing an HDMI cable for casting and a bottle of wine for drinking.

Epilog

While I'm basically a live-and-live kind of guy, Mrs. AAR could brook only so much Thriftyness regarding Veronica's attitude and the amount of gas in the tank. A complaint that included a photo of the gas gauge was officially lodged, and we were officially credited $33.63.

Pompano Beach Fisher Family Pier from the bar at the Beach House

Endnotes: I wanted to provide some very specific details that, while vaguely interesting, did not contribute to the overall narrative. Perhaps just wait until the end to enjoy.

¹ I think Sixt is pronounced "sikst." Which reminds me of an old episode of Get Smart ("My name is the Craw," "The Craw?" "No, not the Craw, the Craw!") or Christinith from The Other Guys.

² My Mother used to love Dunkin' and her senior discount, but no matter what location we visited there was confusion: my gift card from a Subscriber wasn't accepted, the clerk didn't know what Sweet'n Low was, a store full of Boston Cremes that required me to order via the app that indicated the store had no Boston Cremes, etc.

³ A trapizzino is unlike a calzone; as the bread for a trapizzino is baked separately, then folded to accept the filling.

⁴ Despite the many South Florida businesses incorporating Intercoastal in their name, the correct name for the 3,000-mile (4,800 km) inland waterway along the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico coasts of the United States is Intracoastal. The term “intra” means within, while “inter” means between. Since the waterway runs along the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico coasts instead of equally between the two coasts, intracoastal is a better term.