“They flee from me, that sometime did me seek, with naked foot stalking within my chamber.” Would the forsaken 16th-century poet Thomas Mallory feel even lonelier today, when so many bedchambers are abuzz with the cricket song of battery-powered lovers and the month-old Hollywood Hustler Store (1500 E. Sunrise Blvd.,…
All Stars Sports Bar (2201 W. Sample Rd., Deerfield Beach) is decked out with red felt pool tables, a ping-pong table, a small corner stage, and every warm and cozy trapping necessary for a good time. Located in a nondescript shopping center, the place serves a variety of imports on…
Fat Cat’s (320 SW Second St., Fort Lauderdale) is trying to close down at 4 a.m. on Sunday morning, when people standing in the dense crowd on the sidewalk out front start moving in unexpected directions, like ants pouring from a flooded anthill. First, the cops drag off a young,…
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A spin of the Romance Roulette wheel landed on a Thursday night for my newest sidekick, Rufus. The lucky chap’s spectacles positively fogged up over the prospect that I’d throw all five feet, eight inches of his vein-bursting desire into the path of lusty ladies in downtown Fort Lauderdale. I…
“I can control what you experience through the night,” Gary Santis says, “with my lighting.” The mad-scientist statement drops from the hot (very early ’90s George Michael, yum!) promoter for the most prominent dance venue in Broward County, the 18,000-square-foot Coliseum nightclub (2520 S. Miami Rd., Hollywood). Unless you’ve been…
Just south of the Henry E. Kinney tunnel in downtown Fort Lauderdale sits a big, fat, square, teal-and-brown building with no windows and a couple of hanging signs that read “$1 drafts.” You’ve probably driven past it a hundred times without noticing it, let alone feeling the pull of its…
Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you? — Walt Whitman, To You It wasn’t as if we expected people to treat us like goddamned prom queens or something when Career…
Red, mutilated crustacean corpses were all over the sun-scorched, tread-flattened grass in front of the Rosey Baby booth, where the crawfish boil was going down. Lines of festivalgoers, many in bright dresses and black, Velcro Reeboks with frilly socks, trampled the husks as they inched toward the counter to get…
Chocolada, 1923 Hollywood Blvd.
Club M, 2037 Hollywood Blvd.
Club XIT, 219 N. 21st Ave.
Coyote Bar and Grille, 1926a Hollywood Blvd.
Duck-Inn, 1846 Harrison St.
Nikki Marina, 3555 S. Ocean Dr.
Octopus Garden, 1942 Hollywood Blvd.
O’Hara’s, 1903 Hollywood Blvd.
Sonar, 2006 Hollywood Blvd.
Sneakers, 112 S. 20th Ave.
Zombie, 1934 Hollywood Blvd.
Three hundred thousand sports fans in Hartford, Connecticut, put down the kielbasa a couple of Sundays ago and neglected their near-constant relationship with the dented cushions of their couches to celebrate UConn basketball’s NCAA championship. It must have seemed a good opportunity to reestablish a relationship with natural light. And…
It’s 2 a.m. on a Saturday at Plato’s Repeat (321 W. Sunrise Blvd., Fort Lauderdale), and the long, softly lit Jacuzzi room next to the bar is crawling with eight nude bodies. The Asian-themed space is filled with an almost impenetrable haze, but when a loin-wrapped, soft-fleshed couple in their…
Let’s say you’re on the second date with a person whom you’re really, really attracted to, but then he or she does or says this one thing, and you suddenly decide: “It’s over. Deal breaker.” For me, if a guy uses the term “bro,” the dishes are done. It’s finished…
It’s almost midnight on a Friday at Assman’s Wacky World (3000 E. Oakland Park Blvd., Fort Lauderdale), and 42-year-old Dave Tarr, the Assman himself, is bending over on the deck behind the restaurant to plant a kiss on his thin, blond girlfriend’s butt. He stands up and rests his lanky…
A favored professor at a college in the Northeast once asked me where I was from, and I said, “Fort Lauderdale.” In front of a group of my classmates, he replied, “Fort Lauderdale always makes me think of a girl walking down the beach on crutches with a piece of…
At the mere mention of the title of Anne Louis and Joyce Bandler’s new book, Predicting the Penis, Jamie, a raspy-voiced, brunet bartender, explodes: “They’re lesbians trapped in a heterosexual mind frame, and they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about…. How the hell do they know? Some guys…
It’s about 10:30 p.m. linear time on a Saturday night, and 40 partially conscious humanoids have just completed an hourlong, energy-generating “Dance of Power” and drum circle beneath towering light sculptures. Dressed in everything from earth-toned linens to tacky lycra, they are splayed across the dance floor like massacre victims…
At 10:25 p.m. on a recent Wednesday, Matt, a tall bartender with a dark, short-cropped beard, walks perfunctorily toward the dock in front of the Downtowner Saloon (408 S. Andrews Ave., Fort Lauderdale), unhooking his belt and opening his fly. A crowd of ten locals — Night Court included –…
The two-tiered ferry boat, the Carrie B., is docked on the north side of the New River, across from the Sea Monster Night Club (2 S. New River Dr., Fort Lauderdale). At 6 p.m. sharp on a lazy Sunday evening, the engine gurgles to life, and the paddleboat’s big, red…
The steamy, packed dance floor at Capones (300 New River Ct., Fort Lauderdale) is thumping to the 69 Boyz’ “Tootsee Roll” at midnight on a Saturday. Sure, the song’s almost a decade old — not exactly a cutting-edge spin — but still danceable. Belly-baring blonds on the bar top undulate…
In a large, black-walled room, well-built, shirtless men wearing dark pants and suspenders meander around an empty bar with drink trays in their hands. To the left, down a small set of stairs, are several small stages decked out with tiny-briefed hunks dancing around a large main stage. About 25…
Last Sunday about 10 p.m., a two-car caravan of girlies was shaking with bass and peenie-happy energy and flying down Federal Highway toward La Bare (2750 E. Oakland Park Blvd., Fort Lauderdale). The group’s avowed intent: to ogle nearly naked members of the dominant half of the population. The secret…
