Back on those rare nights where I would party to the break of dawn, nothing gave me the heeby jeebies quite like seeing someone who was starting their day. The idea of those poor saps forced to wake up early to go to work, or even worse the jerks who put on their spandexy exercise gear to get fit early in the morning made my stomach hurt.
But the other morning I woke up insanely early and decided to walk to the beach to see the sun rise. I had to pass Washington Avenue and several South Beach partiers were still wearing their nighttime club wear and I felt a similar queasy sensation.
Just as in cards the ace can not bridge a straight between the king and the two, neither should late nights and early mornings ever meet.