9 a.m. Friday. Miami. You're stuck on the Palmetto Expressway, already late to your "minimum" "wage" desk job when you get a call: Sofi, your Soulcycling best friend with the ever-perfect manicure. "Muchaaaacha! Where are you?" she says. Her tío is out of town and lent her the boat. Juanchi, the dude you've had your eye on who resembles Maluma in abs, tiny man-bun and net worth, will be there. WYD?