Olde Floridae

If there’s one thing I learned from my time in the spy game, it’s that animals are gonna do what animals are gonna do.

So when the fair Genevieve and I happened upon a couple of turtles taking in some afternoon delight at St. Petersburg’s Sunken Gardens in late July, I wasn’t the least but surprised. But my lady? Boy, was she ever!

We caught only a few seconds of the action, but it was enough time for Genevieve to record the dismount on her phone. My man didn’t exactly stick the landing, but he probably still got a podium out of it. After that, he walked around the lair like he owned it, even though he had five or six roommates. Turtles have no shame.

Anyway, my point is that the gift shop inventory at Sunken Gardens was lacking. My girl had no trouble finding a nice souvenir T in her size, but I was stuck with ones that looked like they were left over from the first episode of “The Biggest Loser.” Come on, city of St. Petersburg – which I presume owns the classic attraction because the name was on the receipt – up your T-shirt game!

As for the actual reason we were there – to see the best of nature and rap on bamboo in the middle of a concrete jungle – Sunken Gardens delivered, again. Best $15 you can spend. And if you wear XL shirts like me, it’s the only $15 you’ll spend.