Shopping & Services

Boom times have wreaked havoc at most dollar stores, where prices have crept up ten, 20, even 30 ticks above the promised 100 cents. Still, it's quality that really counts, even at around a sawbuck, and quality is where Dollar Heaven earns its halo. Four bits and change grants you access to three long aisles of crazy bric-a-brac, including a surprisingly comprehensive tool selection and a respectable array of spices. Jewelry? You've got the finest plastic imports from Mexico. Cookware? The best that China has to offer. Children's toys? Hoo, Mama -- it's Christmas. A tank of helium brooding in the corner for the occasional balloon inflation and displays of essential oils are just some of the extras thrown into the mix that a plain old Family Dollar will always sadly lack. And to top it off, every purchase comes with an inevitable sassy remark from Dollar Heaven's owner, who lives for the small pleasure of teasing his customers. He won't let you out the door without an observation about your purchase, but he is always patient with the now-commonplace dollar-store question: "But really, how much?"

Asa Boynton is a one-man crime fighter, dope-den destroyer, letter writer, and critic of Hollywood City Hall. In fact, Boynton's tireless hell-raising with Hollywood's Police Department and politicians earned him our nod as this year's Best Gadfly. Since moving to the Diamond of the Gold Coast from Kendall a decade ago, Boynton has made community activism his passion. But there's more to him than that. Boynton's also an entertainer, a man whose love of costumes inspired him to be what he is today: a singing telegram artist. Of course, Boynton does more than sing and dance. He dresses the part. He'll show up at corporate events, parties, and even your front door dressed in a purple gorilla suit or in his favorite costume, the Hairy Fairy. In fact, Boynton unveils his new Hairy Fairy costume with this photo. When it comes to his favorite shop in town, he's quick with an answer: Chantik Imports. Located in downtown Hollywood, Chantik specializes in furniture and arts and crafts imported from Indonesia. Boynton loves Chantik's furniture, but it's the store's masks and woodcrafts that drive him back week after week. "I just get off on carved wood and different kinds of masks," Boynton says. "Plus, I'm a Leo, and I love tribal-looking things." At Chantik, Boynton has bought everything from mirrors to masks to painted wooden fish that he uses to hang from his clown costume.

As the name suggests, CD Collector wants to unburden you of those extra discs piling up at the back of your music collection. If they're in good shape and not especially lame (e.g., Pat Boone's heavy metal album), bring 'em in for either cash or store credit. If your CDs are scratched-up or played-out, then bring cash -- you'll need some form of currency after perusing the assorted CDs, records, DVDs, T-shirts, and other music-related knickknacks you'll inevitably haul up to the register. While there are plenty of hip-hop and dance CDs to go around, the store is especially heavy on rock -- indie, punk, classic, new wave, etc. For your convenience, the more spin-worthy LPs are hung on the wall, including reissues of the Clash's self-titled album ($13.95) and Suicide's 1/2 Alive ($12.95). The thousands of used LPs in the main bin are a bit cheaper but still far above dollar-bin quality. Speaking of dollar deals, a buck is all you pay for each of the CDs stored in the back of the shop (across from the Numark DJ packages, which run $275 to $385 for dual turntable kits). A dollar also gets you one of those old-school punk, ska, and Oi! buttons you won't find at Hot Topic. Of course, after a trip to CD Collector, you've got no reason to do your music shopping at the mall.

If you're not accustomed to the scavenger-like joys of second-hand shopping, here's rule number one: The difference between a vintage store and a thrift store is like the difference between Ralph Lauren and Target. That being said, Vintage Diversity has the type of hip, retro garb you'd otherwise find only on eBay. Pick a decade, any decade (OK, maybe not the medieval period) and owner Melanie Garbo-Byrnes will find the right size and style. The prices are as varied as the fashions. Mod-styled blazers start around $46 and can run four times that. Forty bucks is the average price for men's shirts, black Members Only jackets (remember those?), and accessories like a '30s-era woman's hat (gray wool with sequins). For vintage on the cheap, show up on Saturday for the $5 sales racks -- that guayabera shirt you were eyeballing on Thursday just might be there. And if you just need something to rent for a party, that's fine; $75 covers your rental costs from head to toe. Just let Melanie know what look you're going for. Austin Powers -- no prob. Saturday Night Fever, Grease -- consider it done. Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Uh, how old are you?

Watching the wild thing doesn't get any easier than this. This spacious smut palace is just a few blocks off I-95 with easy and ample parking. Thousands of DVDs, featuring every form of bonking one could imagine, line the walls and racks, some for as little as $6. Complete Adult also rents DVDs for $4.25 for two days, with a refundable deposit. What this place has going over most of its competitors is the "preview room," where patrons can seal themselves into small cubicles and watch scenes from a selection of sex tapes that revolves weekly. At about a buck a minute, it's spendy, but it does keep your home porn stash down to a manageable level. Open Monday through Saturday 10 a.m. to 1 a.m. and Sunday till midnight.

As you walk through Las Olas Beauty, passing by shelves of skin creams and bath products, you can tell the store knows its cosmetics. But if you venture back into the massage room, you'll see that the store's concept of beauty runs more than just skin deep. The various massages available are tailored to your particular needs, whether it's working out the knots in your neck or giving your lymphatic system a good jolt. If you're a newbie who thinks all massages are the same (ever had an Oriental?), you'll probably want to start with a mini massage ($40), a 30-minute stress buster ($40), or a Swedish ($70). If you want to step things up a bit -- and don't have especially frail bones -- try the deep tissue for $80. (Mini deep tissues are available for $40.) Another $80 treat is the Shirodhara, which includes a foot and hand massage while a stream of warm oil is poured onto your forehead (the opposite of Chinese water torture). But if you're ready to go all the way, lymphatic drainage therapy (of the face or body) costs $125; it's an invigorating, detoxifying boon to your immune system. Until you learn to stop slouching, consider this your health retreat.

You love the feel of brine in your face and rod 'n' reel in your hands, pulling with all your might to land who-knows-what on that hook. But you also know that the once-plentiful fisheries in the Atlantic Ocean have been woefully overharvested, and the much sought-after billfish, like marlin and swordfish, are a deep-blue treasure too precious to decimate. With Atlantic Taxidermy, you can have it both ways: hook your prize fish, let it go, and still hang it on your den wall. Owner and operator Joe Ribera supports catch and release, so Atlantic Taxidermy creates a replica mount of the big one you let get away. All you need to bring in are the exact measurements or a photograph for the work to begin. The price runs roughly $10.50 per inch, with a $350 minimum.

Arrrgh, maties, listen up to this tale. T'were back in Aught One, and I were takin' the clipper Mary Sue Matilda 'round the Horn. A mighty gale blew in from the west, and the Mary Sue were tossed like slab meat to a hound. Lost, we were. Me crew, good 'n' true, were a-fearin' fer their lives. So I reached into me skivvies and pulled out me chart from Bluewater. I airn't afraid to say me men wept with relief, 'cause they knew that Bluewater's got the chart fer what's ailin' ya. Their 5,000-square-foot store has more than 35,000 nautical books and charts in stock. Now, I'm an ol' salt who likes paper 'tween me fingers, but Bluewater's got electronic charts to boot, and everything's also fer the buyin' over the Internet. So prepare fer the ill winds, and set yer bearings on Latitude 26-06.05 North, Longitude 80-07.66 West, where you'll find Bluewater open Monday through Saturday from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. If'n you show up on Sunday, laddie, yer out of luck.

Here's a tip: After you buy that new snorkeling or scuba-diving mask, take it to your bathroom. Push out a sliver of toothpaste -- paste, young ocean explorer, not gel -- and rub the paste with your finger on the mask's inside glass. Rinse the mask, then do it once more. That little process will take away any film on the glass and help prevent your mask from fogging up just as that barracuda darts by ten feet below your fins. That's just one tip you can get from the helpful staff at Divers Cove, a full-service shop on University Drive in Davie that has received a five-star rating from the Professional Association of Diving Instructors (PADI). Divers Cove sells everything you'll need to visit the natural paradise that exists just below the waves off the coasts of Broward and Palm Beach counties -- from buoyancy control devices on down to gloves. At Divers Cove, for roughly $30 to $80, you could be swimming off the coast of Lauderdale-by-the-Sea, new mask and snorkel in hand. The PADI-certified dive center also offers weekend and evening dive classes ranging from beginners to divemasters. Prices vary depending on times and certification. Divers Cove also works with two local charter companies to offer dive trips from Hillsboro Inlet and Port Everglades.

It's a little intimidating to walk into a store past tarantulas and scorpions situated right at the front door. But, after passing the creepy crawlies, you'll be dazed by the variety of creatures on display at Underground Reptiles. Poison dart frogs of the brightest blues and yellows, green iguanas, and yellow- and brown-striped baby leopard geckos fill cages on shelves throughout the store -- and those are the most common varieties. Besides the crunchy crickets and wiggly wax worms being sold for food, there's also a back corner where the dangerous serpents are kept, venomous snakes in secured terrariums. Want an odd feeling? Peer at the black mamba from only three feet with just a thin barrier of plexiglass protecting you, then turn around to see a cute half-dollar-sized baby tortoise. It was strangely unsettling when we did it. But cold-blooded critters are sometimes joined by their mammalian kin at Underground -- hedgehogs, sugar gliders, and other rare mammals. For the showstopper, there's a python big enough to eat your dog. The store will even bring out a slew of slithering friends for your kids' birthday party. Sssseriously.

The trendy stylists at the Strand can save you from yourself. Like, when you go to get yet another round of blond highlights, they can stop you. Talk some sense into you. Have a style intervention. With a cool razor-cut or a complementary all-over color, they can take you from 2001 straight into the present. Hip, superstylish, and yet really, really nice, they will work with your hair texture and personal vision to make you look as if you just floated off the pages of a fashion magazine. It doesn't hurt that, when you enter the salon, a host will offer you a glass of wine -- even at 11 in the morning. Take a seat in one of the comfy leopard-print sofas and flip through giant stacks of magazines or check out all the fun art on the walls. You can get thermal straightening, waxing, and manicures here, and the salon bills itself as the place for hair extensions. Prices are moderate -- with men's cuts costing $30 and up; women's, $50 plus. The only Catch-22, says one client, is that "Once you're drunk from all that wine, you'll end up buying some of the really cool handmade jewelry that they sell."

Once upon a time, the only things you needed to get to the big leagues were hopes, dreams, maybe a homemade bat, raw ability, desire, and a father who forced you to switch-hit from the time you were in diapers. My, how the times they have a-changed! The five-tool player of tomorrow probably smears mink-oil paste into his palm-padded glove before donning metal cleats, polarized sunglasses, and an Under Armour T-shirt just to take some cuts in the batting cage. Or he nestles a bat weight on a Big Barrel Plasma to get his speed up before cranking up the ol' batting machine and slapping the horsehide into the outfield. All of the aforementioned are abundant at Batter's Box (the Coral Springs shop has the batting cages, $2.25 for 20 pitches at a range of speeds), which is perfect for aspiring Cabreras, Sosas, and Jeters or just looking good through the beer inning.

The half-taunt on the front window says, "If you bought a bike here... you would have made that light," as if the indignity of sitting at the railroad crossing at Prospect and Powerline could be any worse. It's a funny jibe from a place that suggests by its very name that all bikers, from hot-shit punks to weekend-leather posers, are welcome inside. Funny thing, because the cozy, family-run shop in the light-industrial area does accommodate all kinds, including the tykes who can fire up a cassette of, say, "Iron Giant" while you browse the bikes or hammer out the details of a repair job in the shop out back. The owners, Bill and Ona Bustos, have a reputation as "decent and honest," as one customer literally on the street (on a Kawasaki, was it?) described them. The website could use updating, but at least it links to the contents of 23 parts and accessories catalogs for quick shopping.

It can be expensive to buy rubber. And, no, we're not talking about variety packs of contraceptive measures. Tires, baby, tires. These days, a set of four brand-new, off-the-production-line radials can set you back close to $1,000. That's a lot of dough, especially if you don't want to sink a ton of money into your ride. But Friendly Tire in Margate has the economical solution: used tires. Located in an industrial park near U.S. 441, Friendly Tire carries radials in all makes and sizes and does a brisk business. It's often busy any day of the week, because the service is (as the name implies) friendly and the tires are great deals, ranging from $17 to $22 per tire for an average tire size. And that includes installation! Although the tires are used, they have been inspected by Friendly Tire's staff, and many are roadworthy for tens of thousands of miles more. But be warned: You won't find an air-conditioned waiting room with the latest US Weekly. In fact, you have to wait outside as Friendly Tire's staff changes your tires. But that's no big deal. You go to Friendly Tire for a great deal on reliable radials.

There's something wonderfully mischievous about going swimming without so much as a millimeter of lycra between you and the water. There's something even better about doing it at night, and at a very public locale. A good place to disrobe and experience the all-American thrill of skinny-dipping is on Fort Lauderdale Beach, just north of the Yankee Clipper Hotel (1140 Seabreeze Blvd., Fort Lauderdale), where it's just dark enough to be inconspicuous, yet there's enough light for you to see any bad guys who might come your way. Or, for that matter, officers of the law.

Sloan's is an amazing sensory experience, with its hot-pink walls, giant lollipops, miniature choo-choo train, 47 flavors of ice cream, and toys, toys, toys! But the most amazing part is the bathrooms -- which have clear glass doors that look right in to the throne. When you venture in and turn the door handle, however, the glass fogs up and becomes completely opaque. An investigation by the Travel Channel -- which named this the tenth best bathroom in the entire world -- revealed that the door is actually made of two panels of glass. Sandwiched between the panels is a mixture of polymer and liquid crystals. A constant electrical current keeps the crystals in line and the glass transparent. But when the door handle is locked, the current is stopped, the crystals fall, and the glass looks clouded. For a cheap thrill, you can spend all day playing with the bathroom door. Better yet, take a friend, feed them a couple of bottles of water, and get a kick out of showing them the way to the loo.

Six years ago, kiteboarding was in its infancy. There were no magazines about it, no DVDs, no lessons. Pioneers just went out to the beach, tried to harness the wind, and got slingshot hundreds of yards down the beach in the process. That's when East Coast Kiteboarding's owner, Damien Wright, went to Maui to give it a try. "It took me about eight months to ride upwind," he says. "That's a long time." But he got hooked on the sport, which he describes as "wakeboarding, flying, and snowboarding" all wrapped into one, and started his traveling kiteboarding school, which now offers lessons from West Palm Beach to Miami. Kiteboarders have been clocked going 55 knots per hour (although the average speed is closer to 20), and waves can work like ramps, sending kiters 20 or even 40 feet in the air. There is a danger element, though. Says Wright's wife, Jen, who teaches with him: "You can put yourself or somebody else in the hospital." Lessons will help newbies learn to control their kites and perform self-rescues. At East Coast Kiteboarding, it costs $120 for a beginner lesson on land or $599 for a weekend camp that should get you up and riding -- but, as Damien puts it, "If you think of the $30,000 it costs to buy a wakeboarding boat, it's cheap." Beware: Jen says, "Once you get past the initial learning curve, you'll spend every day looking at the wind, just waiting for it to pick up."

Jezebel isn't just for '40s sock-hoppers and vintage couture queens anymore. The venerable vintage clothing store, which in previous incarnations was also called the Stock Exchange, has kept Fort Lauderdale in funky duds for 15 years. But the managers couldn't keep their enthusiasm for quirky inventory entirely tethered to clothing, which means the store's rabbit-warren interior is lined with bizarre tchotchkes that beat out the schlock in the beachside tourist shops any day. No sno-globes or shot glasses here; at Jezebel, some of Florida's more unlikely stuffed animals jostle for space with neat stacks of prewritten to-do lists, imaginative soaps, and some of the coolest hats you'll see outside of a milliner's. Because Jezebel began life trafficking in used threads, many of its gifts, like the Fiesta-ware silverware, take their cues from bygone eras. And the entire backroom is still dedicated to a carefully chosen selection of vintage clothing at reasonable prices. So the next time cold-weather friends and relatives set up camp on your fold-out, ensure that they won't return north with the usual tacky knickknacks that tourists shell out for in their complacent, sun-warmed stupors. Just steer them toward the mermaid riding the lobster right near the beach off Federal Highway, and Jezebel will take care of the rest.

Dragging a haul of bell-bottoms and turtlenecks to the Women in Distress thrift store in Margate makes you feel like a saint and involves face time with some of the feistiest ladies in Broward County. The store, in a tired-looking strip mall, accepts donations of clothing, furniture, and household goods, then turns around and resells them for ridiculously low prices -- we're talking $2 for a shirt, $5 for shoes, etc. The money helps fund WID's wide array of services for battered women, which include advocacy, counseling, and a women's shelter, the only certified one of its kind in Broward. The gals who staff the thrift store will greet your haul with open arms and crows of delight, and some can tell you touching stories of how your act of generosity will benefit womankind. Soon, if your castoffs are cute enough, they'll be festooned around the showroom in makeshift display cases, making you the Calvin Klein of the thrift-store catwalk.

It's been called the L.L. Bean store of gay sex toys, and for good reason -- Catalog X is the retail outlet for the vaunted gay sex-toy catalog of the same name and stocks the three-foot silicone cocks and gallon-sized vats of personal lubricant that the rest of the country can obtain only via mail-order. Fifteen years ago, convinced that a sex toy catalog marketed specifically to gay men would hit one out of the park, Mark Possien abandoned a career as a lawyer and founded the catalog, which immediately owned the niche, gay sex-toy market in its glorious entirety. Specializing in butt plugs, dildos, and high-quality lubes, Catalog X's toys aren't for the faint of heart -- some of the more advanced penetrationware measures size in feet and girth in sphincter-wrenching screams. In case the hardware's charms ever falter, Catalog X also stocks a wide variety of accessories, from porn to embroidered cum rags to an entire line of clothing, Cocksure, which the owners design on-site. Such frippery gives first-timers a chance to relax while they contemplate reaming themselves with the 17-inch Dick Rambone massive cock. More of a high-quality outfitter for bedroom-sport enthusiasts than your run-of-the-mill sex megastore, Catalog X is in a sex-shop class of its own.

Let's make this clear -- anybody can slap a "shoe store" sign on a strip mall and hawk Keds for a living, but it takes a special touch to sell honest-to-God stripper shoes, and Strut does it with panache. They have help -- Strut is connected at one end to the Fetish Factory, South Florida's premier source for high latex and rubber sex couture. But while the Fetish Factory aims to outfit nubile sex slaves from head to ankle, Strut focuses, exclusively, on their feet. You'll find nary a heel shorter than five inches in its showroom, nor materials that don't give off the musky scent of oiled leather or supple vinyl. Buckles are a must, and the more divots and hook-and-eye clasps, the better. But as scary as some of the merchandise looks, the sales staff is unfailingly helpful. Eagerly, they'll tell you the pros and cons of thigh-high lace-ups versus a more demure, pink, three-inch platform sandal. And the best part is that while the most outrageous toe-stompers can cost hundreds of dollars, most of Strut's wares are surprisingly affordable. So let Strut help you step into your inner stripper, and watch the shoes pay for themselves.

The Asian Market off Lantana Road, which is sandwiched between a hair salon and a Chinese takeout, is packed tighter than a spring roll (and yes, that's its entire name). The seven aisles are stacked to the ceiling with Asian goods ranging from Dragon Dude candy to Happy Tea. At the back of the store, freezers are jammed with different baggies full of meats, fish, and various ingredients for the Asian cuisine of your dreams. They stock some of the freshest produce, including the cheapest bean sprouts and ginger in town. But it doesn't end there: Somewhere between the mushroom-filled cans covered in Chinese writing and the bags of salty wasabe peas is an entire aisle of Chinese dishes, chopsticks, and $10 butcher knives that are sharper than razor blades. If there is anyone else in the store, it's a tight squeeze, but it's worth it. At the checkout, make sure to grab an Asian pastry and have a gander at the ten-foot-tall wall of medicinal herbs in little undecipherable boxes.

A1A is one of the only roads that you can buzz down on a 49cc scooter without feeling embarrassed. The salty ocean breeze and endless single lanes of traffic make for miles of laughs while scooting along at 25 mph. Fun times, but you don't actually want a scooter in the garage, do you? They need maintenance and polishing, they take up space, and in the end, you'll get no respect. Instead of dropping a grand on your own, go rent one from Fun Rentals without the fear of explaining to all your friends why you have a powder blue Vespa in your garage. Rent that scooter instead and it's fun and quirky to ask someone out and then zip through town laughing like trendy hipsters. The shop is right on the strip in Deerfield, and you can drop $25 for an hour or $50 for four hours and wander the beach at a speed slighter faster and less tiring than a bicycle.

Seems like tattoo parlors are appearing and disappearing so fast, before your new skin design gets a chance to scab over, the place that inked it has been replaced with a Starbucks. So it says something that Tattoo Paradise has been on the same street for more than 15 years. Owner Louie Lombi has worked with some of the greats over the years, artists like Paul Booth, Zeke Owen, and Big Joe Kaplan, and his current staff has more than 90 years of tattooing experience. The walls are covered with fairly generic flash, but it's the custom work that really inspires Louie's crew. That, and the rock 'n' roll blaring over the sound system. Heck, bring your friends while you get that new mermaid, because the waiting room has two pool tables. And relax, because Tattoo Paradise guarantees its work for life. If your colors start to fade, just drop by and get a touchup or recoloring at no charge.

Arabic-language newspapers. Bulk curry. Cans of ghee. Dates. Falafel, fava beans, and filo dough. Hibiscus drinks, hookahs, and hummus. Jordan almonds. Malt beverages. Orange blossom water. Rose syrups. Sardine tins and sesame candies. Teas from every corner of the tea-drinking world, tobaccos for the hookahs, Turkish delight, and turnips pickled pink in beet juice. Your grocery store is a library of banality compared to this place.

On the floor, a cluster of blue crabs crawl around in a plastic tub. A broken harmonium -- an old Indian pump-organ -- sits waiting to wheeze again. But to notice these details amid Bedessee's cramped aisles, crowded with customers, is far from easy, what with all the action at eye level. True to its name, this large grocery/boutique caters to expatriates from Jamaica, India, and Trinidad, which is something of a Caribbean conglomeration of those two civilizations. In other words, you can find a Bob Marley poster as well as huge wall plaques of Hindu deities. Red, gold, and green Jamaican flags unfurl over a collection of Indian DVDs and CDs straight from the subcontinent. Oddities abound: scotch bonnet pepper sauce from Guyana. Carib Shandy beer from Port-of-Spain. Cases of Guinness, brewed and bottled in Kingston. Goat's feet from... somewhere. What the hell are these? Cricket bats! Jeepers! Clarified ghee! Iron-and-Wine herbal remedy in a jar! And all the while, you're serenaded by a bouncy reggae version of "Jesus Christ Superstar." Hosannah!

On a late weekday afternoon, all is as it should be at the Smoke Café. Several patrons are perched along the black marble-topped bar, where a phalanx of elaborate stainless-steel lighters stands. A retired gentleman is regaling a visitor with tales of a near-death experience, puffing slowly throughout the narrative to build drama. A beefy young man is flirting with Kate, the cigarmaid from Pittsburgh behind the bar, whose blond hair contrasts with the deep auburn wood of the walls. Outside, a cigar store Indian keeps vigil over several tables where customers can breathe in fresh air and a fresh Presidente. The café offers free Internet access with the purchase of wine or beer. A humidor nestled in the back holds plenty of the cigars you're here for in the first place.

You have to love a business small enough that you're dealing with the owner and big enough to be overwhelmed by selection. If you're a novice smoker or buying for a friend, you won't go wrong with the helpful recommendations of owner Moe Sohail, who's been running the place for eight years. But even if you know the difference between a Churchill and a Robusto, it's nice to have Sohail's advice after passing through the door into the sizable walk-in humidor. There's also a fine selection of lighters and cutters, from the workhorse variety to the guy-who-has-everything gift items. And smoke if you've got 'em; there's a small leather-chaired lounge. Open Monday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. and closed on Sunday.

Wine snobbery, or at least wine appreciation, has finally trickled down to the masses: You no longer need 1,600 dusty bottles in the cellar of your baronial manse to enjoy quaffing a decent port. Getting to know good wine is supposed to be fun -- Bacchus is a party god, after all. That wicked cherub reigns supreme at Hollywood Vine, where a handsome, irreverent crowd congregates around the granite counters to sample from a chalkboard listing of 20 or so wines, conducting off-the-cuff mini-tastings before plunking down $20 or $30 a bottle (the prices per glass are about half what you'd pay at a restaurant). This retail wine shop and liquor store has the intimacy and pizzazz of an upscale neighborhood pub, done up in glossy mahogany shelving to showcase wines and spirits from around the globe, plus a handful of artisan cheeses. On Tuesdays, vintners and distributors show up for light lectures and free tastings too. Partners Luciano Armellino, who formerly worked with Kendall Jackson distributors, and Steven Krakow, who managed a retail wine store, tasted 1,600 wines before they opened their doors this year. "We just chose our favorites," Armellino says. "Good wine is good wine."

If there are two things no household should be without in these Republican, family-value-touting times we live in, it's an American flag and a full-sized reproduction of Jesus. For the latter, there's Moroneys', which is jam-packed with Christian symbols, artifacts, clothing, and jewelry. There, standing atop a display table, is the classic representation of the Messiah: long face, flowing hair, sad-yet-caring eyes, arms outstretched wide to the heavens. The fiberglass, bronze-colored statue was made in Italy and costs about $6,500 -- but you can always dicker. If the Son of Man is out of your price range, some four-foot St. Francis sculptures are both tasteful and less expensive at $700 apiece. In several poses, the saint of animals seems to be juggling four white doves above his head. Open Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Nothing says "I earn more in a year than you do in a lifetime" like a good, old-fashioned luxury yacht. Water Fantaseas employee "Arnold" (he's a bit cagey) is ready to help you choose your pimpin' boat ride from the widest selection of locally available luxury boats. They range from a 94-foot Ferranti, complete with salon, wet bar, and wood paneling, to an 84-foot topsail schooner that wouldn't look out of place in a Disney ride. Water Fantaseas isn't shy about its status as supplier of Fort Lauderdale's most outrageous vessels. Arnold will tell you that the company has played host to a roster of A-listers that includes Will Smith. No surprise; in addition to coming equipped with experienced crew, Water Fantaseas can provide the catering and accommodations to satisfy even the most discriminating of celebrity posses.

When New Times Broward-Palm Beach gave BC Surf & Sport this award two years ago, the store was at a different, much smaller location. With BC's move to a new storefront last November -- about a block to the north -- it's like going from a four-foot mini ramp to a vertical 14-footer (but much safer, of course). Now situated in a stand-alone building, the new shop's nearly twice as large. For merch-hungry skate grommets, shopping has gotten much better (or, in skate lingo, sicker). Despite its surf-oriented moniker, BC is heavy on the skate goods. Normal decks average $54.99 (Flip, Girl, Alien Workshop); another ten bucks gets you an old-school reissue (remember freestyle boards?). Speaking of reissues, BC's DVD collection includes oldies but goodies like Powell Peralta's The Search for Animal Chin ($50 for the special edition) as well as newer films like Baker 3 ($31.99). If you're planning a trip to the skatepark but don't have a helmet, pick up a Pro-Tec ($29.99 to $39.99) on your way. And while you're at it, try finding a replacement for those raggedy Vans on your feet -- perhaps Emerica's Andrew Reynolds model ($64.99) or Adio's Jeremy Wray ($61.99). Now you'll have no excuse for not landing 360-switchflips.

Whose idea was it to exclude adults from the joys of things that go vroom? Certainly not the boys at RC Boca, who maintain their own private fiefdom of motor-powered testosterone toys in a tucked-away corner of Boca Raton's Mission Bay Plaza. Inside this remote-control-enthusiast shrine, all customers are expected to worship at the altar of miniature monster trucks, helicopters, speedboats, and their many tiny assorted parts. Heaven help the innocent who utters the term "model cars" in this establishment. Nor can you find any dinky plastic cars that might be sold at Toys ÔR' Us. Instead, RC Boca is all about souped-up mini-muscle cars that are built for speed -- and collision. (One manufacturer the store features rewards operators who total their cars with a free model shell for every dozen they destroy.) And not only does RC Boca sell its remote-controlled miniature power vehicles rip-roaring fast -- it sells them sexy. Just ask one of the "RCBoca Babes," who front the store's website wearing cutoffs, mini-monster trucks, and sultry expressions.

If you drive a Volvo in South Florida, you can expect plenty of jeers and obscene hand gestures from fellow motorists who don't understand the allure of boxy Swedish engineering. You can also expect to be screwed by a nitwit mechanic who's never heard of Sweden, let alone that country's signature brand of hideously safe motor vehicles. Unless you know Leon, who still wears his name on his coveralls in his small Volvo repair shop in Pompano Beach. The tiny shop is a real mom-and-pop, run by Leon and his wife, and it specializes entirely in Volvo maintenance and repair, to the unadulterated joy of beleaguered Volvo owners across Broward County. Offering fair prices and a promise to do all repairs the same day (to prevent customers from being stranded without their ponderous steeds overnight), Leon also won't bullshit you: If your 1989 240DL is a hunk of junk, he'll tell you to scrap it, even though that's a couple of grand less work for him. Of course, he knows you'll be back -- when you buy your next Volvo.

It's a rare thing for a pawn shop to try to make its customers feel like anything other than the petty thieves, out-of-luck gamblers, and dumpster-diving opportunists that they are. But Davie Pawn and Jewelry has a different philosophy -- swaddle customers in an atmosphere of quality and familiar jocularity and you will be rewarded with their love. There's the long, blue awning that reaches clear out to the parking lot of the Country Road Shoppes strip mall, New York City-style, to funnel would-be hockers into the store's shady interior. There's also the immaculate glass cases of jewelry lining the store's interior. And there's an entire wall devoted to musical instruments -- gleaming electric guitars and patinaed trumpets galore. The place offers other services besides the typical hock -- the in-house jewelry repairman will replace your watch battery for $7, and while you wait, you can wire money to loved ones from the on-site Western Union. The only reminder that this place isn't some Las Olas boutique is the door buzzer -- even the best of pawn shops still have to screen their clients. Ah well.

Just as the name suggests, this ain't no Western buckskin outlet. Managed by Bear Man, a founder of Fort Lauderdale's Leather University, this store offers the rougher side of leather, from pants and boots to full bondage wear. Particularly eye-catching is the faux-police uniform by Interstate Leather for $169. A two-piece made fully out of black leather, the ensemble is completed with an across-the-chest hide strap, belt, and shiny baton. The selection of chaps hangs as numerous as backyard palm fronds, all arranged by "upper thigh size." The store also stocks more than 1,000 square feet of leather in all types of colors and thicknesses for unique desires. Keep a sharp eye out when you're trying to find Leatherwerks, because the storefront is inconspicuous. Open Monday through Saturday from noon to 8 p.m. and Sunday from 1 to 6 p.m.

After Hurricane Wilma kicked our asses back to the 19th Century, there was a store in Fort Lauderdale that still had supplies. It had tapcon screws, generators, and everything needed to slap your abode back to somewhat presentable condition. Executive Hardware, one of the last family-owned mega-hardware stores in Florida, is still going strong despite storms both natural and man-made (Hurricane Wal-Mart). This actual mom-and-pop place stocks 70,000 items, and the friendly staff can't wait to pair you up with that double-flanged wing nut you need to finish off your post-storm fix-up.

This well-endowed former grocery store contains the largest arsenal of musical instruments in South Florida. Naturally, the place is stocked with six-strings. Keyboards and drums and basses too. But the next time you pass through the glass doors into the sound-proofed drum room, hang your first left. Because Guitar Center is big on miscellaneous minutiae, not just the commonplace, this is the place to find the most compressive assortment of percussion most mortals have laid eyes on. (Outside of a Tito Puente/Sheila E. double bill, of course.) We're talkin' timbales. Claves. Congas. Bongos. Maracas. Cuicas. Guiros. Palitos. Need more campaña (cow bell)? Of course you do. If Afro-Cuban is more your thing, this place has djembes up the yin-yang. Through those doors, first left, make some noise.

Consider this place Arcade Version 2.0. Instead of playing against a computer, you can play against people inside OffWorld Game Center as well as on another continent. With about two dozen computers hooked up to a high-speed Internet connection in a strip mall in Lauderhill, OffWorld specializes in multiplayer PC gaming -- from such strategy games as Ages of Empire III to first-person shooters such as Battlefield Vietnam and the U.S. government-created America's Army. This is a place every geek at heart will love. Bottles of high-caffeine BAWL Guarana are available in the refrigerator, and clever T-shirts and bumper stickers are sold at the front desk. Our favorite: "Every time someone downloads a song, God kills a kitten." Despite opening less than a year ago, OffWorld Game Center has become a serious destination for hardcore gamers. In addition to the two dozen computers, OffWorld offers console games in the front and a huge theater in the back available for console games or movies. Rates are $5 per hour or $4 per hour if you have a $40 annual membership. On Tuesdays, gaming hours are two-for-one, and on "Whoop-Ass Wednesdays," players game all night for $10.

We tried. We really tried. Surely, there had to be a challenger to knock Tate's Comics off its perpetual throne as best comic source in South Florida. But no. Not only has Tate's continued to be the gravitational center of the local graphic-novel universe but the mind-blowing manga seller has even upped its game. As in its "gaming satellite," to be precise. Formerly located in a crammed nook of a nearby storefront, the new gaming space has moved to a much larger unit a few doors north of the main store. That means more room for your buds, their ninja minis, and all those dice in a marathon role-playing session. And back at comic-book central, the main shop is still a trip for the casual shopper or hard-core fan. Even if you aren't the classic comic type, your imagination will be stoked by a walk through this maze of anime DVDs, movie props, comic artist supplies, and wild action figures.

Like many of the shops inside the Gateway Plaza, Archives Book Café has the sort of quaint affability that's increasingly rare in a world of Wal-Marts and Starbucks. Its organic, old-library feel is decades removed from the impersonality of the big book sellers. But enough of that... what's for sale? Well, aside from café items like lattes ($3), bagels ($2.50 with cream cheese), and cookies ($1), Archives' book collection runs the literary gamut, from presidential biographies to true crime (there is a difference), as well as all subgenres of fiction, history, politics, and religion. An impressive percentage of the store's inventory is like new, which means you're more likely to find psychiatric books about Prozac than, say, trepanation. And because of that newness, Archives is more sinus-friendly than a lot of the other dust dens that pass as used-book stores. Prices vary depending on the title, though the average fiction novel runs $5.95, pocket-sized paperbacks cost $1, and many of the normal-sized paperbacks end up in the $2.83 section. Archives may not be the biggest bookstore in town, but its cozy atmosphere goes a long way. And, for that matter, so will a dollar.

Gyms are being subjected to an unfortunate trend in South Florida: They're getting biggie-sized. National chains have moved in and begun the McDonaldization of workout facilities, bringing us legions of soccer moms pumping away on elliptical machines and stair climbers. While bigger may be better, that doesn't apply to your gut. Gus Hernandez of Sweat! in downtown Fort Lauderdale has come to save us from our super-sized habits with his intimate gym that offers one-on-one training and his 14 years of experience in personal training. The philosophy of Sweat! matches that of the old-school boxing gyms in Philly. Hernandez, not some corporate stooge, picked out every machine in the building and can craft a personal workout strategy for you -- just like Mickey did for Rocky.

While places like Whole Foods grow more like the supermarkets they once scorned, smaller, more traditional health-food outlets struggle. But it's not surprising that a small indie like Organically Fresh has a dedicated following of customers. Stuffed inside are a half-dozen tables covered in plastic where you can nosh on organic vegetarian or meat dishes like chicken and eggplant parm. Behind the miniature deli counter, workers prepare smoothies and juices chock-full of tasty wheat grass. On the far wall is a small selection of vitamins and dietary pills to cleanse your organs and boost your immune system. And there's just that extra boost to your chakras knowing that you're sticking it to corporate gigantism.

If you're having trouble finding George's Music in the Palm Beach Mall's directory, there's no need to get your guitar cord in a bunch. Simply go out the Borders exit, walk to the edge of the sidewalk, and look to your right. Yep, that's the only entrance. And if it looks familiar, well, it should -- it's the store formerly known as Mars Music, which George's took over after Mars tanked a few years ago. Call it a coincidence, but the sales reps are a lot less pushy than they used to be. You can actually walk from one section to another without some sales shark breathing down your neck. One thing that hasn't changed, though, is the extensive selection of music gear, from guitars (Fender Telecaster, $649; Squier Telecaster, $229), amplifiers (VOX Valvetronix AD100VT, $549), drums (Tama kits range from $650 to $1,688), and digital mixers (roughly $229 to $799), as well as plenty of microphones, cables, recording software, and every accessory you'll need for the stage or studio. All right, so maybe there aren't any pyrotechnics. But that's for your own good.