Let's imagine, for once, that your out-of-town guests are under the age of 70 and not living on a pension. Let's fantasize that your guests like to stay out late and drink strong mojitos, that they have their own sporty little coupe and a suitcase full of shimmery minidresses and linen trousers, and that they'll undoubtedly offer to buy the empanadas and capirinhas if you'll just point them in the right direction. A night of their lives is waiting at Spice Resto-Lounge, the Hollywood epicenter of what South Florida might have been had it taken its cues from Havana: lots of booty, rum, and rumba set on a busy, breezy boulevard where the moon seems ever full. The menu here is supper-club Latin-Caribbean, and the floor show is nonstop, from a series of crooners singing Astrid Gilberto hits through the bouncers and cocktail waitresses who'll hop up on raised platforms and dance their asses off at the slightest provocation to a house band that strikes up around 10 p.m. seven nights a week and keeps the place rocking until the very wee hour of 4 a.m. Anybody who fails to have fun here isn't your friend.