The stigma in Miami is that the women, or the opposite sex if you’re a girl (or whatever floats your boat), while a feast for the eyes, are also horrible in personality, yappy and want constant red carpet treatment in hopes of climbing up the financial hierarchy without effectively contributing anything.
To counter the argument that I’m sexist, the stigma toward men is that the average Joe is a “Jersey Shore” juice-head with the brain size of a peanut and diminishing testicles with every fist pump. In general, with many exceptions to these rules, I would agree with these stereotypes if I were to just walk around and observe.
However, it’s not as bad as people say. For example, to put it in nerdy, economical perspective, I went to a high school where my graduating class was 42 kids. Out of my entire class there were only a couple of good-looking girls with a stomach-able personality. Even then, they became best friends, at least on the surface and merged into one hedonistic monopoly to crap on all but the most worthy. It catered well to their egos because they were big fish in a small pond.
Now, envision these decent-looking girls and throw them in an atmosphere where every other girl is beautiful too- it’s not so easy to see now how they are differentiated. And fast forward to being in Miami during your golden days, where the women can be horrible. Luckily, after the emotions run dry, they are easily replaceable.
If my high school was controlled by the terms set forth by monopolistic forces, Miami is a nearly perfectly competitive market, where the consumers, or the mouth-dropping men, set the terms more so than the other way around.
Don’t like supermodel A and her general demeanor? Move on to supermodel B. There’s a good chance there’s no overlap in their social circles anyway because women who are most desirable at their very core feel threatened heavily by the other bombshells.
Evan Seaman is a senior majoring in marketing. He may be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.