The scene at downtown Fort Lauderdale's Poor House on any given Friday or Saturday night is familiar. Young men and women pile into the club's close quarters to hear the band and unwind. People sit at the bar and swap stories while a handful of tipsy patrons spills out into the street, oncoming cars be damned. A man in a soiled apron wipes his forehead as he drags to the curb a trash can heavy with empty beer bottles and watches the garbage water leak out onto the street. The air is an intoxicating mix of sweat, smoke, and pizza. The usual suspects are all here -- hanging out at this bar has been the equivalent to cruising the ol' high school parking lot for... More >>>