Goods & Services

We may be dating ourselves here, but by concentrating on stocking the hottest new virtual reality simulators, operators of some arcades have left many old favorites out of the mix. The best arcade should have it all, and Grand Prix Race-O-Rama certainly comes close. While the kids virtual-fight on Tekken-3 or swoosh toward victory on Alpine Surfer -- a snowboarding simulator in which balance and technique are crucial -- parents can reminisce with a game of Ms. Pac-Man, Galaga, or Centipede, all of which are located in a sort of "flashback row." For a real blast from the past, play one of the six pinball machines -- though these newer models are based on recent movies, such as Godzilla and Lost in Space. The boardwalk-arcade feel is completed with photo booths and ski-ball games, which award prize tickets redeemable for trinkets. Grand Prix is also a gambler's paradise of sorts, with simulated horseracing and poker. Oh, and you can find a few other relics there: namely, air hockey tables. In addition to Grand Prix's original, 14,000-square-foot arcade, which is located next to the go-kart track, another huge (40,000-square-foot) gaming center is housed in the main building across the street. Both arcades are open 24 hours.

Size does matter. That's why we journey to Megasex Adult Emporium for our XXX video needs. With about 20,000 titles available for rent, the place stocks something for every fetish and fantasy. Looking for celluloid she-males? There's a whole section dedicated to the testosterone-challenged. Titillated by outrageously endowed women? Check out the "Big Tits" section. The women featured here make Dolly Parton's you-know-whats look like mosquito bites. There are also dozens of amateur titles, such as Fuck the Boss Vol. 5, which features five "suck-retariats." Not to mention countless "classics": Who could forget Deep Throat 6? Our favorite section of Megasex Adult Emporium, however, has to be "Wrestling." It features such cinematic juggernauts as Pussy Whipped and Smothered With Pantyhose. Open until 2 a.m. every night except Sunday (when closing time is midnight), Megasex is the perfect opiate for those lonely Saturday nights when the family-friendly fare at Blockbuster just doesn't cut it.

When Betty and Earnest "Blackie" Hinkle opened Hinkle Bait and Tackle on State Road 84 in 1955, a sprinkling of lures hung on the wall, and the empty boxes were put on display to make it look like they had more in stock. The trick worked, because enough customers returned to justify increasing the inventory. Soon the store was recognized for its wide selection of fishing equipment and accessories, especially live bait. So when Larry and Marcia Brooks took over the shop in 1996, all Larry had to do was mention the name of his new shop at a fishing trade convention, and he was promptly offered a $100,000 credit line by one manufacturer. The Hinkles originally sold the shop in 1977, but Betty Hinkle has stayed in contact with all the owners since, offering advice and occasionally working at the shop, which moved to its present location in Davie in 1983, when a section of I-595 was built through the property. Earlier this year the inside walls of the building, which resembles a rustic wood cabin with a porch, were knocked out to create more space. Now the current owners, Tom and Lisa Krips, are set to provide area fishermen with an even greater selection of rods, reels, waders, lures, line, hunting gear, and, of course, plenty of live crawly critters to put on the end of a hook.

Customers of Guys and Dolls are sternly advised to "Please sit up straight, uncross your legs, keep your feet off the furniture, and please don't smoke while your hair is being cut." The sign on the wall is no joke, says co-owner Linda Lafrato; at the height of the season, her colorful beachfront salon draws weird walk-ins like driftwood. Maybe it's the huge row of red, green, orange, and purple "passion flowers" painted along the outside façade or possibly the six-foot, hand-carved teak "Java Man" statue waiting just inside the front door to greet unsuspecting visitors. Or maybe it's just they've heard this is an always-reliable spot to have your hair cut, curled, styled, teased, shampooed, combed, and blown dry for a reasonable price by a friendly and talented crew. They heard right.

Nine Inch Nails pumps through the store, indicating that a trip to Rhythm Clothiers is not your typical shopping excursion. Street-savvy duds by Miss Sixty, Diesel, and Juicy share the racks with more refined designs from BCBG Max Azria, Vertigo, and Parallel. "It's all in the mix," co-owner Gerry Novoa says of his take on trends and the attention he pays to fresh, durable fabrics. The Rhythm staff unpacks new pieces every day but stocks only a few of each so that, out on the street, customers don't run into other folks wearing the same outfits. Although women's clothes -- sheer skirts, slinky dresses, metallic slacks -- fill most of this funky boutique, the velour pullovers and retro-patterned shirts in the back of the shop tempt fashion-conscious men. Collaged wallpaper fragments cover the walls of dressing rooms outfitted with vintage chairs. In one stall stands a regal mannequin with arms of red wood, decked out in an AstroTurf bustier and skirt of faux poinsettias. The patron saint of Rhythm Clothiers, she has attitude and style to spare.

If you're into comic books or know someone who is, you've probably heard of Phil's Comic Shoppe. And if you're looking for that hard-to-find Silver Surfer No. 15 or Superman: The Complete History, Phil has it. Even some of his competitors say Phil Beracha is the best, and there are plenty of reasons why. He has more than 30 years of experience, he has everything from brand-new books to back issues, and he knows the history of comic books inside out -- the fact, for instance, that the comic book began back in the 1800s with pulp magazines that featured the Yellow Kid. And get this: If there's a title you can't find in Phil's shop, he'll get you in touch with someone who can provide it. He's not afraid to recommend customers to other comic book dealers.

Like a sunken galleon lying on a sunlit reef, South Florida is overrun with divers. Dive shops, too. Around these parts you'll find dive shops in all shapes and sizes, from storefront mom-and-pops to national chain outlets. For our money the best of the bunch is Divers Unlimited. Not only does the store carry one of the largest inventories of snorkeling and diving gear, it also has a full-time licensed technician on staff who works out of an in-store repair shop complete with its own hydrostatic machine (for pressure-testing tanks). The store also offers a new-diver training center complete with its own practice pool. The pool is even heated; unfortunately it has no sunken galleon.

So, is your submissive play-partner looking a little down at the heels these days? Here's a solution: Drag that disobedient slave by the choke chain straight down to this latex-and-leather emporium incongruously located in the heart of downtown Dania Beach's antique district. Here you'll find all the erotic-fetish apparel your evil heart could desire, everything from latex hobble dresses (custom-molded by co-owner Sean Newman to the customer's measurements upon request) to a wide selection of leather corsets, skirts, and bustiers. You'll also find a wide selection of sob-inducing implements such as paddles, whips, floggers, crops, and razor strops. One word of warning: Don't come in here expecting to see a sale rack. This joint stocks only high-end merchandise, most of it imported directly from Europe, and it's pricey. But after all, you wouldn't want little subbie to feel mistreated, would you?

Looking for beads or Virgin Mary candles, a tiny voodoo doll with which to terrorize your boss, spices to ward off evil spirits or lure a potential lover from the next cubicle? This tiny cluttered hole-in-the-wall has been making Haitians feel at home in Broward County for more than a decade, dealing in potions and folk medicine -- everything you need to keep the spirits smiling. You may, however, need a guide to figure out what to do with all the herbs, spices, beads, and crosses that fill sinister brown containers in the shop. Ask the owner to recommend a mambo, a voodoo priestess. (The resident mambo at St. Pierre passed away a few years ago.) Or mill about on your own among candles of every width and color, potions that bring wealth or calamity, tonics that cure colds and fevers. If the shop doesn't have what you need to invoke a promotion, the owners will fill special orders from their potent homeland.

Jerry Garcia may have turned in his tie-dyed T-shirt and electric guitar for a pair of white wings and a harp, but his spirit lives on at this popular hippie stop. In business for more than 13 years, this one-stop shop for countercultural paraphernalia features a back wall stocked with more than 250 water pipes, ranging in size from six inches to more than two feet (for those individuals with a third lung). If you're worried your pipe doesn't match the décor of your apartment, We-B's has pipes shaped like aliens, Frankenstein, and even Chef from South Park. Nostalgia buffs'll go for the ceramic statue of Popeye, which doubles as a hand-held pipe. For the more discreet types, pipes cleverly disguised as florescent highlighters, automobile cigarette lighters, and lipstick cases are available. The furry blue handcuffs in the adult-toys room serve as a nice accent for any headboard. The room also offers leather whips, body creams, body massagers, and a full line of Kamasutra products for fetishists. Sex and drugs. Who would have ever thought the two would make such a good mix?

If Adam and Eve were still around, this is where they'd do their weekly grocery shopping. You won't find any MSG, nitrates, or yellow dye number 5 in the aisles, but you will find environmentally friendly bleach and toilet paper and ayurvedic herbs. "Ayur-what?" you ask. Dr. George Love tells customers just how to use the Asian herbs to lose weight. He's one of the many guests who appear at Wild Oats for community events, which include stress-management seminars, live music on Wednesdays, and sample-tasting days. Speaking of taste, if you're one of those picky people who don't like fruits and vegetables bombarded by chemicals and pesticides, look for the section of organically grown produce, right next to the cooler of hormone-and-steroid-free beef and chicken. And if you're in the mood to eat out, an in-house eatery features a sushi bar, made-to-order sandwiches, and a 27-foot salad bar. It's usually packed at lunch with folks looking for an alternative to greasy fast food. Watch out, Burger King.

If you're like most people, you know one-stop shopping is the only way to go. You can find it all, from Saks Fifth Avenue to Sears, at Town Center mall in tony Boca Raton. Town Center offers a variety of shops and specialty stores, including the Polo Shop and Bruno Magli. And for a mere $3 (pretty cheap, especially for Boca), valet parking is available outside the mall's main entrance. Looking for the Princess Diana commemorative plate? Check out the Franklin Mint store. Need tickets to any sporting event or musical? Todd's Tickets is the ticket. Concerned about your safety while schlepping your purchases from store to store? Don't be. Town Center's got that problem licked: Real police officers on bikes patrol the mall courtesy of PBSO -- no rent-a-cops here. At the end of a long day of hard-core shopping, take a break at the food court, which provides some of the best people-watching; from blue-haired old ladies to blue-haired goth teenagers, all species of South Florida life are well represented.

You want low prices? Go to Home Depot. But if you want selection, Living Color is the answer. The nursery has more perennials than just about anybody else, from hybrid hibiscuses to heliotropes to guara to argeratheums to ground orchids. Palms? Choose from spindle, triangle, bismarkia, bottle, royal, queen, Christmas, coconut, and Alexander, among others. Citrus? Well, you get the idea. If getting lost in flora appeals to you, Living Color is the place to do it. Bordered by a wide canal, the nursery also has dozens of statues (some hand-carved), a wide range of pottery, a few fountains, and a lot more stuff than you could possibly take in during one visit. But if you have the landscaping bug, you'll be back.

Bougainvillea Place is like a Star Trek holodeck: Suggest a time and place, and photographer Butch Stark will transport you. He'll place you in a Victorian sitting room or on a Southern veranda, complete with white wicker swing. He'll turn your son into Boy Blue or Little Lord Fauntleroy, your daughters into fairies fluttering their wings atop magic mushrooms. Stark's back yard is landscaped with wildflowers, ponds, gazebos, a garden gate, tea table, and bird feeder. In his front yard is a tire swing, bougainvillea arbor, and 1932 Ford jalopy. Of course Stark also has smaller props: a '40s scooter, a miniature Chippendale settee, a porcelain bowl that doubles as a baby's bathtub, even a live pet rabbit, Freckles. Stark, whose family planted bougainvillea in Miami at the turn of the century, says he's "looking for a timeless quality" when he shoots portraits. In business since 1970, he's photographed three generations of clients' weddings and bar mitzvahs and done portraits for local newsmakers such as Miami Dolphin Kenny Mixon and Davie developer and rodeo rider Ronnie Bergeron. Whatever the subject or setting, each picture reflects Stark's love of people and photography, which no backdrop can replace.

Home-brewing is a sticky business. The pot of wort -- the stew of hops and barley malt that eventually becomes beer -- boils over at least once when a beginner's at the helm. That's why Brewmasters South is a good place to start. Tom Perlman, who owns the brew-it-yourself outlet with wife, Leslie, sets customers up at one of the gleaming copper kettles in the shop's front window, then helps them get started. First a beer -- anything from pale American-style lager to alcohol-heavy Belgian Double Triple ale -- is chosen, and then the brewer is handed a recipe sheet listing the ingredients. Fresh ground malt is put into a mesh bag and dropped into the water like an oversize tea bag. Syrupy malt extract is added for extra flavor, and after the malt has simmered for a while, hops are added, their tartness balancing the sweetness of the malt. Once the brew is cooked, the staff helps brewers put it in a barrel for fermentation. After two weeks a brewer returns to bottle the beer -- and sample it, of course. For about $100 (plus $50 for a set of 22-ounce, reusable bottles), he walks away with six cases of beer that -- if brewed correctly -- blows domestic brews out of the water and matches pricey imports.

We didn't know there were so many types of barstools. Tabasco maple. Natural oak. Pine. Leather. Animal prints. Vinyl. Chrome ultrasuede. Backless. Cushion swivel. "We carry something for everybody," says manager Roberta Dubonet, noting that there are more than 1000 stools from which to choose. "I even have a barstool named after me," she says. It's called the Dubonet, an elegant maple throne with vanilla-leather seating. It's for Glenlivet single malt scotch drinkers, and will set you back $550. At the other end of the spectrum is a backless maple stool that runs for $44.50. It's for the Pabst Blue Ribbon crowd. Low to the ground, it's a barstool you can fall off at the end of the night without the risk of serious injury.

After World War II when Port Everglades was dredged, Dania was drenched in salt water, and the land that made the city famous for its tomatoes went bad. Land values plummeted, and the main drag on Federal Highway emptied out. Then Genevieve Ely, a member of one of South Florida's pioneering families, opened up an antiques shop. Soon one antiques dealer after another began showing up in town, filling up the empty buildings. Dania was no longer synonymous with new fruit but with old furniture. After decades of gradual growth, more than 100 dealers and dozens of shops are crammed into a few blocks. Whether it's a 200-year-old silver set going for $10,000 or a kitschy old Coca-Cola sign for $100, there's a world of stuff to be found there. You can get a little medicine bottle from Colonial times or a really cool grandfather clock or even a ship's binnacle dating to the 1800s. The smart antiques shoppers set aside an entire day for the district and leave with a little piece of history.

"Nobody in Palm Beach will buy used clothes, or sell them," locals told Maxie Barley when she opened the consignment shop Déjà Vu 12 years ago. But Barley suspected that residents of this exclusive isle shared her dual devotion to designer clothes and bargains. Indeed, one of her wealthiest big-name customers won't buy anything unless it's 50 percent off the already discounted price. Barley says she would go to jail before revealing a client's identity but claims her patrons include millionaires, movie stars, socialites, secretaries, police officers, and drag queens. She reserves the highest reverence for anyone selling Chanel -- almost a "sure thing" in the consignment business. The sacred suits, marked down to around $1400 from $4000 or $5000, hang in a shrine of sorts at the store's center, shielded by a locked glass door. Out on the floor are racks packed with such finds as an $1825 bubble gum-colored fox coat embroidered with the signature "Marilyn," a $115 creamy Valentino blouse with satin weave and sheer sleeves, and a $715 Egyptian-style Mary McFadden gown that flows from a beaded bodice into a crinkled-silk column. These gems, which Barley euphemistically calls "gently worn," may not even have been worn at all -- hard-core high society women would be horrified to show up at a function in last season's designs.

Because DJs need vinyl, they depend on specialty stores that offer the hottest dance music and 12-inch-single remixes. But what about the record collector who never gave up on vinyl in the first place, who's still looking for yesterday's, and some of today's, releases? "There is no type of music we don't sell," claims Larry Paul, owner of Larry's Records, and he's not exaggerating. Fans of the Zombies, for example, who stuck with founder Rod Argent after he left the band in '69 will find Argent's stuff in the "Rock" aisle. A-ha, Icicle Works, and Wang Chung LPs from the '80s are in the "Progressive" music section. Replacements for worn-out copies of the Grease soundtrack can be found in the "Soundtracks" bin. Amid the rows of Bananarama, Men Without Hats, and Ultravox records under the "Rock Pop Retro" sign lurk plenty of 12-inch singles and EPs. And for vinyl junkies whose history goes back a ways, Nat King Cole and Paul Anka records are in the "Vocals" aisle, as are hits and obscurities in the two racks full of 45s. Separate sections are also set aside for picture disks, soul and R&B, jazz, oldies, calypso/soca, disco, and comedy. Larry even employs DJs who catalog and price the new dance stuff, the selection of which is large enough to give those specialty shops a run for their money.

If you can tell the difference between men and boys by the price of their toys, the miniature regiments stationed at Grande Armée serve as age indicators. Contemporary figures, starting at $10 for a single and $75 for a set of six marching men, could launch a young collector on a course that culminates in a $2600 game of turn-of-the-century cowboys and Indians. Co-owner Frank Muir initiated his "affliction" 50 years ago with Britain's limited toy soldiers, which now cost 100 times more than the few dollars he paid for a box then, and has since moved on to such rarities as a thimble-size Henry VIII surrounded by his six wives ($850 to keep the family together). "It's literally a hobby that's gotten out of hand," says his nephew, Jim Muir. "His wife wouldn't allow him in the house with one more piece. She was setting up metal detectors at the door." So ten years ago, Frank and his brother Bill opened the Worth Avenue shop that now offers one of the largest selections of toy soldiers in the United States, along with vintage weapons and other militaria. The ghosts of battles past pose solemnly in the windows, a $7500 marble bust of Napoleon plots his resurrection from atop a column in the corner, and a $24,000 helmet worn by a Russian Imperial Guardsman glints regally from a glass case. Even in peacetime it's an impressive display of force.

And now, a quiz. Does your apartment décor rely heavily on gaping blank wall spaces? Do you believe a row of beanbag chairs lined up against a wall is a reasonable facsimile of a couch? Are you aware that none of the folding chairs around your kitchen table match? If you answered "yes" to any of the above, you're poor -- or close to it. But that's OK. There's no shame in poverty, so long as you can hide it. And this is where St. Vincent de Paul's comes in. This church-run thrift store stocks all the home furnishings a Dickensian urchin could want. Used sofas? They have several rooms stuffed solid with them. Love seats? Ditto. Coffee tables? End tables? TV stands? Standing lamps? There's not floor space enough to display them all. Remember, all the goods are donated, so don't let a scratched surface or ripped lining discourage you. They're also very chea economical. We picked up a very comfy couch and a matching (well, we think it matches) glass-topped coffee table for $100. And all sorts of knickknacks are lying around: candlesticks, paintings, paperweights, lava lamps, gifts -- even appliances. We bought a used toaster-oven for $8, and it works great. The one thing we haven't found yet is a velvet Elvis, but we haven't given up hope.

Every spring the comic strip character Cathy frets in a fitting room amid mounds of less-than-flattering swimsuits, lamenting yet another torturous attempt to find one or two scraps of fabric that won't embarrass her at the beach. Her frustration is familiar to women whose figures don't conform to the proportions of mass-produced bikinis. Enter Custom Swimwear, which caters to all body types and tastes. The shop's seamstresses can copy a photograph, sketch, or old favorite gone nubby from wear. The staff sews 15 to 20 bathing suits a day, many of which hang from the racks: skimpy bikinis, skirted one-pieces in plus sizes, men's swim trunks, and glorified jockstraps. They can be bought as is, tailored while you wait, or reconstructed by the following day to your specifications. Choose from 100 fabrics, from solid shades to floral, nautical, and geometric prints. Custom suits start at $40 for a triangle-top bikini, but can cost as much as $170 with a support bra and metallic or crushed-velvet fabric. Those who crave completely coordinated outfits can order cover-ups, visors, and hair scrunchies to match. Custom Swimwear's clientele includes bodybuilders, beauty pageant contestants, and women who have had mastectomies. Each customer's patterns and measurements are kept on file, and even first-time orders can be placed via customswimwear.com, to circumvent a fitting room crisis altogether.

Sometimes the bottom line rules, and the simple fact is this: Best Buy is the cheapest place to buy compact disks. Super-mega-monstrosity-chain store or not, it's where we turn for the latest music. New arrivals? Always $11.99 or $12.99. Everything else in the store? You won't pay more than $14.99. Just about any other music emporium (the other megachains included) will tag you for $16.99. That's a two-dollar chunk of change we'd rather spend on a blank tape or bargain-bin cutout. The selection at Best Buy is comparable to any store in town as well. In recent months we've picked up Robyn Hitchcock's latest, Storefront Hitchcock, and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts' Salute the Majesty of Bob Wills, a tribute album featuring such altcountry luminaries as Robbie Fulks and Alejandro Escovedo. We even picked up a digital version of one of our scratched-up old vinyl stalwarts, The Replacements Stink. Now that doesn't stink at all.

Those big, bright megastores in which dildos, strap-ons, and inflatable Jacks and Jills compete for wall space with hard-core porn videos have their advantages. But we prefer erotic shopping to be, well, a little more erotic. Wicked Leather, a tiny boutique snuggled up against a wine store, caters to a largely gay male clientele and offers a few choice high-end sex toys as well as an enormous collection of whips, chains, restraints, and leather clothing. Laid out like jewelry in a glass display case are some of the most interesting implements of erotic torture we've seen. At $425, the deluxe violet wand, an electric stimulation kit, is a bit more expensive than sticking your finger in a light socket, but it's safer. The kit comes with light bulbs and glass tubes, through which a purple current travels, doling out varying levels of shock therapy. Rubber gloves tipped with talons, or dart tips, make for great back scratchers and even better back maulers. Candles, cuffs, pumps, and paddles are also available. And, for the true aficionado, the owners fill custom orders for things like leather-lined body bags with breathing holes and internal restraints. Hey, what you do in the privacy of your own home is your business.

Inline skates and skateboards are sidelines at surf and ski shops, but Super Skates specifically targets wheeled warriors. This specialized approach gives each store the atmosphere of a boutique. The shop on Fort Lauderdale beach is wide open to the salty breeze and outfitted with a smattering of clothing racks and rows of metal skate mounts. Skateboards and oversize T-shirts hang around one corner, bearing busty comic-book blondes and sinister skulls. The comprehensive selection of inline skates includes K2, Roces, and Salomon as well as the ubiquitous Rollerblade, at prices ranging from a child's $79.99 X-tenblade to a stuntman's $249.99 El Oro. "The word on the street -- a lot of people have them -- is Salomon," advises 13-year-old Neal McClure. In just seconds, he has slipped out of his skate-rat slouch and into smooth salesmanship. "It's a win-win situation. The flat sole goes a lot faster, and it's superior in comfort." Too young to be on the payroll, McClure helps out for free shirts, discounted gear, and social opportunities. "I make new friends every day," says McClure. "This place is so great, I'd work here for free."

Your back muscles whine with every twitch, your hair is an affront to good taste, and your nails look like a deck hand's. But the effort required to go to the nearest spa is simply more than you can muster. Spa to Go Essentials will come to your home, office, suite, boat, or cabana ready to rub, style, and file you back into form. Claudia, a Spa to Go masseuse, asks for your preferred pressure level and focal points before easing into a $70, hourlong Swedish massage. At $20 a manicure and $40 a pedicure, the nail services are a bit pricey but precise. A manicurist preps your hands with a lavish coat of lotion, then dabs warm cream on your cuticles and nips them clean. She colors in the lines, spreading polish to each nail's edge without straying into fleshy territory. Finally, co-owner Christine Lieberman, who opened the Worth Avenue version of her Nantucket spa in December, will send you out to that soiree with a $30 blow-out or $50 up-do that makes the morning's frazzled locks seem a distant apparition.

Gather round, small fry. You say you want toys? Then hold your breath (or at least threaten to) until your folks take you to the Gifted Child. I know, the name is, like, barfy -- but look, you've gotta think strategy here. Do you really think your folks are gonna let you run wild in, say, the Swap Shop? Sure, they may take you there, but they'll also hound your every step for fear you'll be grabbed by an evil clown. On the other hand, they may just feel safe enough to drop you off, with cash in hand, at an "educational" store for "gifted" children located in a manicured Weston mall. Don't worry, the toys don't all suck, and you can blow by those that do: the "authentic reproduction" of a T-rex tooth or the Rush-Hour Traffic Jam puzzle ("play by shifting the cars and trucks to clear the exit"). We promise you, there's some good stuff. Our recommendations: the Do-It-Yourself Volcano kit (be sure to double the recipe); the Real Working Binoculars (for peeping at neighbors); and the Undercover Fingerprint Kit (for diverting blame onto friends and siblings). A decent selection of books includes titles like Smell This Book! (Then Drop It, Bite It, Squeeze It, and Read It). And if you're an aspiring chef, there's a kit for making your own gummi candies and possibly gluing the kitchen drawers and cabinets shut in the process. As you browse the Gifted Child, let your motto be, "Hey, let's try this at home!"Readers' Choice: Toys R Us

"What was holding him up was his own fat. His body was folded down against his enormous thighs, and the thickness and fatness of them held him that way, kneeling, poised solid. It would have taken a couple of good blocking backs to knock him over." If you like crime fiction, you know there are few things as fun as an obese corpse, and nobody is better at describing obese corpses than Raymond Chandler. The passage above comes from his short story "Trouble Is My Business," which was first published in book form in July 1946, in a collection of Chandler stories titled Spanish Blood. Don't look for the first edition of Spanish Blood at Hittel's bookstore; we snapped it up for the untroublesome price of $25. But don't panic, either; there are plenty of gems left. Hittel has tens of thousands of books, including collector's items such as 18th-century Palladian architecture books (which you can have for a mere $10,000), old editions from The Wizard of Oz series, and a book signed by Harry Truman. But the true beauty of Hittel's bookstore, which has been around for 25 years, is that you're not limited to buying only rare books; you can buy cheap books, too. Hittel has tons of used books, thousands of them going for $1 or less. And it's worth mentioning that he has a heck of a selection of books by Chandler-influenced Florida crime writers.

Pawing through bins of used CDs can be rewarding when you find that gem in a jewel box, but it's an investment of time that doesn't always pay off. Say you've finally decided to step out of the stone age and replace your favorite albums of yesteryear with CDs; buying them used is far more economical than busting the bank for new copies. But instead of sweating over row after row of titles, you can rely on the computerized inventory system at CD Warehouse. These small stores don't have the biggest selection on hand at any one time, but they're always buying used CDs from customers. So you can simply provide one of the stores with your wish list, and when a pick arrives and is entered into the system, your name will pop up in the computer. The store then calls to let you know. The only problem is the systems aren't linked, so you need to go to both locations if you want to better your chances. Prices for used, single CDs range from $6 to $10, and the store will give you $2 to $5 for old ones, depending on the title, its availability, and the demand for it.

We're still waiting for the day when a link between cable TV and the Internet will provide us with a video library, a one-stop rental site replete with every movie known to man, from The Birth of a Nation to The Waterboy, with all the obscure, naughty, horrifying, and gut-achingly funny picks in between. Then we'll just click on, say, Orson Welles' Chimes at Midnight, sit back with our popcorn, and enjoy. Until then Blockbuster's the next best thing. The chain doesn't carry every movie known to man (where's the adult section?), but it is a chain, and your membership card is good anywhere, meaning that if they don't have The Treasure of the Sierra Madre in Plantation, it may just be available in Hollywood. And the regular rental price, $3.17, ain't bad, nor is the fact that now your chances of renting a brand-new release on its first weekend are pretty good. Are the stores a little too crowded and brightly lit, the youngsters at the cash registers a little too perky? Sure. But these are small prices to pay for the freedom of choice that is every movie-lover's God-given right. Amen.

A sepulchre, according to The American Heritage Dictionary, is a burial vault, or a receptacle for sacred relics. That sounds about right, if you take a quick look at the vintage clothing store known as Sepulchre in Lake Worth. A hearse is parked outside, Marilyn Manson posters adorn the walls, and love beads and bell-bottoms are nowhere to be found. But there's more to this store than the macabre. Beautiful turn-of-the-century dresses and gowns and coats from the Eastern seaboard are available at Sepulchre. Owner Angelina Laurie says all the items have some kind of historical significance, which is one of the ways she determines a piece's worth. For example, we were shown a 19th-century black wedding dress with a lace spider web design. The spider web symbolized eternal love in Victorian times, according to Laurie. But not everything in the store is Victorian and black; Laurie also carries Joan Crawford-inspired suits from the '40s and '50s. Word of mouth is responsible for most of Sepulchre's business, and loyal customers like it that way, because they want to keep the great finds to themselves.

The Best Cellar has a measly 220 or so bottles of wine and champagne for sale -- a pittance compared to what's offered by the alcohol emporium Beverages & More. But whatever Best Cellar lacks in quantity, it more than compensates for with a discerning selection and knowledgeable service. "My mother was born in France, and when I was four years old, I was drinking red wine," says owner Richard Stetler, who also honed his tasting skills while working as a maitre d' at upscale eateries. With few exceptions, such as wines from Robert Mondavi and champagnes by Veuve Clicquot, Stetler limits his selections to presses of no more than 5000 bottles. Aside from Italian, French, and Californian vintages, Best Cellar offers fine merlots and chardonnays from less wine-centric countries such as Argentina, Australia, and South Africa. "South African wines are the absolute best wines in the world for the prices," Stetler says. He cites the 1994 merlot from Bodega Farm on the Cape ($16.95) and a more exotic offering, the sweet South African apple wine from Pale Moon Winery ($7.99) as examples. To compensate for its size, Best Cellar offers a host of incentives. Customers who pay $250 annually or $30 per month get 15 percent off all purchases and a gratis bottle of wine each month from a choice of five. Members also receive free admission to the shop's Wednesday winetastings, which feature six to eight wines and spreads that include cheese, caviar, and pâté. Even if it's not Wednesday night, no need to worry; the gregarious Stetler always has a handful of bottles open for tasting.

It's not as if an earth-shattering cry arose from some vain, beer-guzzling sports nuts looking for a place to throw back a cold one, get a haircut, and watch the Panthers game. But Brian Fischer hated going to his local barber shop and having to sit and wait -- and wait -- for the next available stylist. So he teamed up with wife Leslie and brother Stuart and created MVP Sports Salon. The Fischers, local entrepreneurs all, opened the place two years ago in an old West Palm Beach gas station to serve those couch potatoes who simply must have their sports TV. Indeed MVP is part neighborhood tavern, part local barber shop. Bar food is available, of course, as are upper-body massages, perms, hair coloring, or just a shave and a haircut -- all while patrons B.S. about the game or SportsCenter highlights on one of several TVs in the bar. And, like any tavern worth its beer nuts, MVP has its crowd of regulars, who sidle up to the bar at happy hour (4 to 7 p.m. weeknights) and enjoy a massage and a brew. Sorry, though, no cheerleaders.

Let's say you're planning a cocktail party for some friends with particularly sophisticated palates. Along with the usual nibblies -- cheeses and crackers, chips and nuts, pickles and olives -- you want your spread to include, say, three kinds of caviar, as well as some citron vodka Swedish meatballs and miniature puff pastries with assorted fillings. Your bar will be stocked with an array of top-shelf liquors and liqueurs, and you'll have a sampling of beers and wines from all over the world, hard ciders, and maybe a few domestic microbrewed beers. You don't have to trek all over town to assemble these goodies, because all of them can be found at this newest store in the ABC chain, which also has outposts in Pembroke Pines and at the beach in Fort Lauderdale. You'll find mixers and bar supplies, too, as well as chocolates, sauces of all sorts (including fiery hot pepper), mustards, pastas, imported cheeses and meats, and a dizzying variety of cocktail olives and onions. One climate-controlled room features dozens of cigars from throughout Latin America, and another has wines so pricey they're under lock and key -- a 1986 Château-Margaux, for instance, that goes for $462.99. (The '83 vintage is a whopping $3 cheaper.) To top things off, the staff is friendly, knowledgeable, and eager to please, and the liquor prices are pretty much unbeatable.

Watch out, it could happen to you. One day you may be thinking how this would be a nice day for a ride along the beach, and the next you'll be laying down the price of a used car for a zippy little two-wheeler featuring 24 gears, front-wheel suspension, disc brakes, click shifters, a speedometer, a tachometer, a rear-view mirror, and God knows what else. As bikes become ever more complex and expensive, it pays to be a careful shopper before laying down cash. And there's no better place for comparison-shopping than at International Bicycle Shops. Among the top five outlets in the nation for Cannondales and the number-one in the state for GTs, International boasts one of the largest on-site inventories of bicycles in South Florida. It's all here: everything from $3000 racing bikes to $400 hybrid bangers, not to mention all the accessories -- helmets, gloves, air pumps, tire repair kits, et cetera -- that you'll want before hitting the road. So go ahead, ask yourself: Wouldn't this be a great day for a ride along the beach?

Ever been to a drive-thru cigarette store? Well, on the Seminole reservation in Hollywood you'll find the Gator Tobacco Outlet, a trailer on a concrete lot a block or two north of Sheridan Street. All a patron has to do is pull up to the window and, in a flash, favorite brand is in hand. Even better, the Seminoles don't have to pay taxes, so neither do you. The price of a pack of Marlboros is a scant $2.50 (scant for this litigious, tobacco-bashing era, anyway). A lighter can be had for a quarter. A 12-ounce can of soda is 50 cents, and a small bag of chips is only 30 coppers. Tax-free, all the time. To get an idea of the kind of savings Gator provides, consider that your average convenience store sells a pack of Marlboros for $3 or more.

In business for 13 years, Bluewater Books & Charts is the largest nautical bookstore and chart dealer in North America, shipping 50 to 100 packages a day to ports around the globe. A sampling of its wares includes the paperback Voyaging on a Small Income, the coffee-table tome The Superyachts, waterproof logbooks, navigation software, Florida Keys guidebooks, and charts of the Caspian Sea. Just as informative is the store's staff, which consists of a retired naval commander, a circumnavigator, and a passel of pier residents. Whatever your destination, chances are a Bluewater employee has been there -- or at least can pass along an anecdote from his or her loyal network of seafaring customers. Though mail orders account for more than a third of its sales, the shop is still a hub -- or, as owner Milt Baker describes it, "a happening." Baker cites a typical Bluewater encounter: In walked a man who was about to set sail for Venezuela. A woman browsing among the books announced that she lived in Caracas and took her boat to nearby islands almost every weekend. She told the man about her favorite passages, and he left the store with the kind of information even the most comprehensive of cruising guides can't provide.

Two exceptional newsstands exist in Broward County: Bob's News & Book Store and Clark's Out of Town News. Bob's is the more interesting of the two, a combination head shop, newsstand, and sex-toy emporium. Bob's has bongs, edible panties, the latest edition of the Death Investigator's Handbook, and a Wal-Mart-size selection of pornography. But when we're looking for serious news, we head to the slightly less eccentric Clark's, tucked beneath the Andrews Avenue bridge in the Riverwalk area. The folks manning the cash registers at Clark's have fewer piercings than those at Bob's and far less attitude. Plenty of copies of Spin and Cosmo are available, as are less grocery-store-friendly titles. The store has newspapers from every corner of the country and beyond. The Sunday Missoulian? The Sydney Herald? Both are in stock. We can't figure out exactly who would want to read a week-old copy of the Cincinnati Enquirer, but it's there if you're interested. As is the metro edition of the Sunday New York Times, complete with classified ads, just like you would find it at a bodega in Brooklyn. And yes, Clark's has plenty of pornography as well.

Palm Beach Life. Palm Beach Society. Ocean Drive's Palm Beach. Palm Beach Times. Apparently the other half's appetite for glossy, navel-gazing magazines is not easily satiated. If those four titles available at Main Street News don't provide your fill of gala fundraisers and wrinkled, third-generation socialites, there's also the Manhattan society magazine Quest, which in one recent issue promised a look "inside the family dynasties of New York and Palm Beach." And then there's our favorite local paper, the Palm Beach Daily News -- a.k.a. "the shiny sheet" -- with its travel articles penned by baronesses and its disdain for that oh-so-proletarian curse, newsprint. For those willing to dirty their fingers with black ink and check out how those without seven-figure bank accounts make do, Main Street News always has a several-feet-high stack of the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal. Not to mention a plethora of foreign papers such as the Irish Times and Le Monde. We like to stop by on a Sunday morning, pick up the Times, and then proceed down the block to Testa's for brunch and a prime seat from which to observe the hung-over island sugar daddies and their tummy-tucked sweethearts staring down bloody marys and plates of eggs Benedict.

Since surfer Kirk Cottrell founded the Island chain (five other shops are located along Florida's east coast) 20 years ago, local surfers have made the Deerfield Beach store their supply headquarters. Name-brand boards by Rusty, Local Motion, Natural Art, and other manufacturers line the walls and railing of the upstairs loft. And those are just the short boards; seven or eight brands of long boards, including Hobie and Stewart, are here, too. Also in the lineup are boards by carver-shaper Mike Pechonis, a local whose work is sold under the Byrne name. Of course a surf shop doesn't live by boards alone, and Island offers a full lineup of wet suits, ankle leashes, and shorts. Even surfboard manufacturers have expanded their sales bases, offering clothing, sunglasses, hats, and watches. Island carries the latest lines, and for surfer wannabes the shop offers board rentals and free surf lessons.

At first glance Pet World looks like your everyday pet store, and indeed it has all you need for little Fluffy or Cujo: brand-name cat and dog foods, as well as organic "pet-safe" treats and toys. But once inside you'll notice that the store resembles a petting zoo. If you feel the need to cuddle something cute and furry, ferrets and guinea pigs are available for hugging. Ask one of the employees how much that doggy in the window is, and he or she will bring it out for you. But not everything in the store is cute and furry. Glowing under a black light are an armadillo lizard and an African emperor scorpion. Pet World also has some of the most exotic fish we've ever seen outside of Sea World, like miniature sharks, Red Sea angelfish, South American pacu (a cousin of the piranha), and sea horses. We're not sure that management would agree, but Pet World is a great place to kill some time, especially on a rainy day.

Sure it's great that you can visit one store or Website and pretty much be assured that the book you want -- say, Jimmy Buffett's A Pirate Looks at Fifty or Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter -- is available. But atmosphere counts too. We'd rather not spend all our book-shopping time in a crowded, noisy, book-lined version of Wal-Mart; and unfortunately the librarylike Books & Books is located in Coral Gables. The next best thing is Liberties: The selection is damn good (we saw two poet laureates, Robert Hass and Robert Pinsky, on the shelves); the layout provides enough nooks and crannies for quiet browsing; the help is friendly; and the wood-paneled café is set behind glass, so as not to disturb hard-core browsers. Admittedly the place gets crazy with Boca types on the weekend (a smaller version of the store just opened on Las Olas); but we understand that, even before Barnes & Noble and Borders came along, bookstores catered to all types: the Jackie Collins and Cormac McCarthy lovers alike. At Liberties they live in peace and harmony.