On my way home tomorrow, but I’ve pretty much dug in here in Latino Coral Gables.

Since English is everyone’s second language, except at Starbucks, it pretty much feels like Latin America. An exotic air. And flair.

I have my manicurist, Evelyne, who gave me the very best manicure I’ve ever had. M. says when he returns on business, I can come with him to get my nails done. She’s from Guatemala but her hobby is holistic medicine. She advised me to make sure I take B complex vitamins and drink aloe vera. To purify my liver. She admits the aloe vera cocktail is an acquired taste.

I have my hairstylist, Gio, who gave me a shampoo and blowout to prepare for our dinner out with some of M’s friends tonight. Actually, it was clear that he wouldn’t be caught dead at the shampoo bowl…that was the job of the shampoo girl. I told Gio that I hadn’t had time to get my color touched up before my trip. “Then I will not comment on it,” he said, with some sort of Latino accent and attitude.

And then, I’ll be sad to say goodbye to our uniformed concierge, Umberto. We’ve determined that I have a vocabulary of about 10 words in Spanish, perfect accent, though, and we talk to one another with them every day as I head for the grand staircase down to the street.

Of course, you know that in my fantasy, the stairs belong to my mansion, as does the beauty salon, and Umberto is my personal butler.