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The newest way to meet a guy might be the internet, but the oldest, surely, is at the bar. And the bar at the 90,000-square-foot Xtreme Indoor Karting complex is soundproofed. That's right: The 25 go-cart engines zooming by — one of which possibly carries your beau-to-be — can't break your focus. The men — chipper from exiting the go-cart-ride part of their night — will now be sprinkled throughout the bar. The black-and-white-checkered tile that covers all the ceilings and floors will help amplify the mood — the room itself seems to transform into a giant race flag. Feed into the adrenaline yourself. It's your race now.
Wind your way past the throngs of skinny-jeaned teenyboppers, up the escalator to the third floor. There, across from the movie theater snack bar, is a dimly lit bar. Inside, the dance floor is tiny, made of mosaic marble ideal for spinning. The rotunda ceiling is painted sky blue with white clouds. By 11 p.m. on a Friday, this space is filled with writhing bodies — thrusting hips, glossy red stilettos, metallic belts, greased hair. The people sweat and sparkle as if with one breath. The DJ, speaking only in Spanish, feeds the frenzy, spinning crowd-pleasing salsa, bachata, merengue, and reggaeton. Almost no one is stumbling drunk or leering. Dancing is the only thing that matters here. Beginner salsa students shyly pair off beside the people who were born to move their hips this way. Newcomers watch, mesmerized and breathless, as the best couples compete in impromptu contests. Stand on the sidelines long enough and someone will take your hand, clear a space for you on the floor. You dance until you're exhausted. Then you stumble back out into the air-conditioned theater, wondering how anyone could watch a movie on a night like this.
Candace West
Dinner and intimate conversation? Sexy, exotic martinis at a swank bar? Drinks and covert groping on the low-lit patio? Sweaty body-slapping on a crowded dance floor? You'd have to hit every other gay bar in town to even come close to getting the Manor experience. Its compartmentalized rooms and copious bars make this the most diverse place in Wilton Manors to get blitzed — whether you're tossing back signature Red Apple martinis with the entire YMCA or you're alone celebrating your 40th birthday (with a tray of tangerine-flavored shots and a pink tiara). The dance floor of its Epic Nightclub boasts more shirtless, muscular men per square foot than the sauna at your local gym. And if the Manor weren't already everything you need it to be, the cherry on top is Coffee Talk — a wi-fi-equipped sweetshop smack-dab in the middle of all the sexiness.
There's just something picturesque about a pair of cowboy boots tapping across a shiny, polished dance floor. Maybe it's a deep-seated longing for the romance of the Old West, with its saloons, shootouts, bustiers, and whiskey-swigging good ol' boys. Well, pardner, those days still live at Scandal's Saloon, the best place for both country hoedowning and riding cowboys. You'll meet Florida's finest cowboys (and cowgirls) as they Texas-two-step across the expansive dance floor and line-dance under the gleaming cowboy-boot-shaped disco ball. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, Scandals hosts lessons for those who long to join the ranks of footloose dancers. But even if dancing's not your style, toss a few cowboy cocksuckers (shots) back with Pooch and the rest of the beefy bartenders. Scandal's is all the good of the Old West with none of the bad or ugly.
Comfy leather couches, charmingly mismatched tables and chairs, silverware that comes in a small basket — this restaurant is the perfect substitute for your living room. The vibe is warm and romantic, with red walls and strings of twinkling white Christmas lights making the place glow. Ceiling fans spin lazily overhead. No one here is in too much of a hurry. The menu is impressive but not intimidating. You can share some tapas — spanakopitas, perhaps, or fried pumpkin ravioli — if you want to show your date your adventurous side. Or you can dive into a huge bowl of gnocchi or a plate of braised lamb shank. Sip some wine from the generous selection, and admire the kitschy paintings on the walls. In the middle of the room is a headboard that looks swiped from someone's bed. That's a good conversation starter. Sink back into your chosen couch and enjoy.
South of the conspicuous partiers, cheesy gift shops, and corporate chains like Fat Tuesdays that comprise much of Fort Lauderdale beach, is Bierbrunnen Beer Garden. It hides in an alley off A1A. The open-air bar doesn't shy at the Florida beach weather: no air-conditioning here. But when you grab your first cold one, it's as good as the ocean breeze that winds its way through the space. Enjoy a menu chock-full of bratwurst and an extensive beer selection that includes German imports like Warsteiner, Franziskaner, Spaten Oktoberfest, Erdinger, and Spaten Optimator and domestics like Smuttynose and Rouge Dead Guy Ales. You may be miles away from Germany, but more important, you'll feel miles away from contrived tourist traps.
So you partied too hard — again — last night. Your head throbs. Your stomach lurches. What's a committed nightlifer to do? Stop partying? Stop drinking? Oh, the humanity! Wait! Matty's on the Drive, a Wilton Manors bar with hot music, beautiful people, and a classy, laid-back vibe, holds the holy grail of healing in the form of its signature drink: the grape martini. In addition to containing antioxidants, grape juice packs the power to fight heart disease, high blood pressure, and other nasties that could seriously impair your sexy bod's dancing capability. And yeah, you might wake up the next day with a hangover — but it'll be the healthiest hangover you've ever had.
Prevailing economic forces would have you believe that you shouldn't spend money you don't have; that if you're not a rock or rap star, you shouldn't party like one. But there's another way to treat this moment in history: as an opportunity. It separates the true players from the pretenders. MI-VI in Gulfstream Park is a leap of faith in the resilience of South Florida's playa population. And we're happy to report that on a recent Saturday night, the foyer was totally jammed with slick-dressed revelers, all elbowing one another for the chance to get past the doorman, then to pay $13 for a splash of liquor. The club, on the second floor of Gulfstream Park's entertainment complex, opened in January. It's decked out with chandeliers, tables, and chairs that look like they were swiped from the castle of a French dauphin. The music somehow manages to sound crisp in a club space that could otherwise be an airplane hangar, which suggests that performances from the stage will also enjoy fine acoustics. Decadence isn't back as a South Florida trend, but it is within the walls of MI-VI.
This Pompano neighborhood bar is for storytellers. As the bartender will tell you, sometimes they're the same stories. You'll be the thousandth ear that's heard that Buccaneer regular, the middle-aged ex-yachtie or rabble-rouser, relate the time he got pulled over with rum and pot. Spoiler: The cop let him go — phew. But here, you're among friends. And you'll listen to him tell his story 1,000 more times if you decide to dock at this bar that also functions as a liquor store. Tucked away off Federal Highway in Pompano, in the back of a shopping plaza, the Buccaneer is as inconspicuous as a bar gets. The side that faces the plaza is a liquor store. The only way to get to the bar is through the store, or around the back along a small neighborhood street. Don't miss the small round window with the neon sign that reads "Bar." That's your only landmark. (Well, that and the door that's usually open.) Once inside, the mural will transport you to the islands. But good conversation and good stories will make you realize why you love the neighborhood again.
Krista F Leger
Not much lingers on that South Federal Highway route to Fort Lauderdale Airport, but near State Road 84 — right next to the skating rink — lies the Monterey Club. It's a joint built for folks who choose a night's location based on music. The bar stands out as a small music venue — it books both killer national and local acts and has a fully functioning sound system. Outside, hot rods fill the street (the owner has a 1950 Mercury Monterey), and inside, it's rockabilly retro. Cushy couches line the walls, and animal-print rugs decorate the floors. It's hard to get stuck on the absence of hard liquor (it adjoins a tattoo shop, so this might be a good thing), because they serve about 35 beers, including Dogfish Head, Brooklyn Lager, and Flying Dog as well as ciders and wine. Some nights, South Florida's best DJs spin; other nights, there's karaoke, burlesque, or swing dance. Now, along the barren terrain in the middle of South Federal Highway, there's a watering-hole oasis.

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