Shopping & Services

Ethnic grocery stores typically offer an aesthetic worth soaking in even if you don't purchase a thing. When it comes to local Caribbean grocery stores, Bedessee East-West Indian Foods is the perfect example. They've got two aisles devoted to curries alone, and lots of foods found throughout the Caribbean. They also have a wide selection of chutneys, pepper sauces, and seasonings that you can't find in a typical supermarket, plus numerous Caribbean beers from Lion Stout to Carib, and plenty of island juices and sodas priced 50 cents to a dollar cheaper than other places around town. Items here are affordable; a family could tackle all of their grocery needs at Bedessee without a problem. What makes the market really stand out is the way the East-West Indian part of their name plays a role: You can get Bollywood films here and statues of Vishnu, plus full cricket sets. The place is half grocery store, half botanica; you can also purchase candles to ward off evil spirits, oils, and machetes. And they've got an African section with Nigerian yam flour, palm oil, fufu, sweet potatoes, and more. The produce section is respectable, with breadfruit, callaloo, plantains, and aloe among customer favorites. They've also got a meat section stocked with goat, oxtail, chicken, and dried fish. It's rare to find all these items in one place whether you're stateside or in the islands, which is why Bedessee is a Caribbean market worth exploring.

When you need porn, you need it now. And we understand that. So forget that Something Sexy for Him & Her has a great selection of erotica — teen, bi, gay, lesbian, vintage VHS, and everything from midget gang-bangs to Japanese animation. Forget that the prices are affordable (check out their two-for-one sales), the place is well-lit, and the staff lets you peruse the porn in relative peace. Forget that they also sell kinky shoes, slinky outfits, hulking dildos, and other accessories to enhance your porn experience. (Speaking of experience, check out Something Sexy's instructional video selection: For ladies who'd rather give than receive, try the "Backdoor My Boyfriend" how-to, available on VHS and DVD.) Shouldn't the best adult video store be the one that's open when most others aren't — say, late Sunday night on an important Christian holiday in the latter part of March? That's Something Sexy. Sure, they've got 20-hour porn box sets, vibrators, and sexy outfits, but so does any other good porn shop. Something Sexy, though, is also there with the merch at odd hours, ready and willing on those late, lonely Sunday nights, when only a glistening movie-box blond can give you what you need.

If you've always wanted to be a racecar driver but lacked, say, the kingly fortune required to build, fine-tune, and maintain a monster automobile, it's OK. Moroso Motorsports has made it easy for those of us whose last name is not Earnhardt or Petty to quench our need for speed. For just 20 beans, you can pull up in your trusty Hyundai and have your way with the quarter-mile drag strip. When the official motions to you, pull up at the starting line ("Do a burnout if you like," say Moroso staff), and look at the "Christmas tree," the signal that progresses from red to yellow to green. At green, hit the pedal. At the end of the strip, pull over to the timing booth to receive a little slip with specs like your top speed. It all seems to go by lickety-split, so just pull back into the queue do it all over again. Test & Tune goes down every Wednesday and Friday from 6 to 11 p.m.

When you walk into Florida Cigar Company, the first thing you'll notice is the immense collection of cigars from all over the world. It's one of the largest selections in Broward County. Finger through boxes with all the top names — Don Carlos, Dupont, CAO, Prometheus — and think of the generations of skill rolled into each of these magnificent smokes. Soon you'll find a few you can't leave without. Next, make your way to the bar, where you'll find a friendly 'tender with just the drink to match your cigar, from a stock of top-shelf libations. The crowd is eclectic but mellow here, and the plasmas are always tuned to sports. Ease into a plush leather seat and light that baby up. The stresses of life seem to slip away with each creamy pull, expelled in thick puffs of the good life.

What do you look for in a comic book shop? A good selection of new books as well as an extensive catalogue of back issues, for one. But what else? Good prices don't hurt, especially if you're looking to round out that collection of Wolverine originals. You'd also want a knowledgeable staff — guys and gals who live the life, who can tell you about the latest issue of Jack of Fables or why you need to get some Y: The Last Man up in that mug. And since you're into comics, you probably want a place to game, too — a joint that will not only let you throw down on some Hordes or Warhammer 40K table-top action, but whose employees will bust out their pieces and play alongside you. Basically you've just described your ideal comic shop: War & Pieces. It's the kind of place where you'll not only get a huge selection of monthly issues and graphic novels, but they'll actually let you make a list of favorites, then bag and board them and hold them aside in your own personal box till you pick them up. For that service they'll charge you nothing, and reward you with a 10 percent discount on all comics in the store to boot, provided you pick up at least five copies a month. Now that's customer service. Add to that an extensive list of nightly gaming sessions, artists workshops, and miniatures leagues all taking place inside the hand-painted gaming dungeon, and you've got the ultimate comic destination.

Let's just say that at the normally lazy hour of 1 p.m. on a Wednesday, Lauderdale Diver was packed. More important than the number of customers were their identities: yacht captains organizing trips for elite clients. Dive instructors from other operations, here to get equipment repaired. One divemaster whose job was to don a chain mail suit, put bait on the end of a spearfish, and head to the ocean floor to feed sharks hors d'oeuvres as though they were shish kebabs. What all this told us is that Lauderdale Diver is pretty much the go-to shop for industry professionals. Because of its demanding clientele, you might be left wondering whether shopping here is going to make your bank account take a dive. Not so. A regular open-water dive course, complete with classroom instruction and training dives, costs a mid-range $395. (Pricier places charge as much as $550; cheapie $199 beginner courses may contain hidden costs and add-ons.) For the advanced, Lauderdale Diver offers a slew of specialty courses: night diving, rescue diving, and digital underwater photography, just to name a few. For the less advanced — heck, for those who could care less about scuba — the store has an immaculately clean and organized boutique area where ladies can pick up adorable resort-style dresses for an affordable $29, and dudes can peruse the sexy selection of titanium knives (these are rumored to add a testosterone jolt when clipped to your belt — no goofy-looking wetsuit required). If you don't believe us, just ask PADI: the omnipotent and all-knowing dive organization gave the shop a five-star rating.

The first Saturday of each month, the Gay and Lesbian Community Center of South Florida hosts the fiercest flea market around. Vendors show up at the crack of dawn to spread their wares across the center's immense parking lot and inside its cavernous gymnasium. Shoppers can drop by between 8 a.m. and 2 p.m. The goods on sale range from racy books and DVDs to funky ashtrays and handmade soap. Some merchandise is served up with attitude, some without. You might find kitschy, elegant, or collectible china and flatware. Or vintage cigarette cases and lamps. Almost everything is of high quality. Thanks to the kind volunteers at Grateful Paws, there are even dogs and cats on display who need temporary or permanent homes. Something is sure to catch your wandering eye at the Bizarre Bazaar... Just don't expect bargain basement prices. These folks know the value of their goods.

Bright, cheerful, and with old-fashioned music playing unobtrusively in the background, To the Moon is like a throwback to a 1950s candy store: A sweet shopkeeper and shelves packed with everything from chocolate-covered strawberries to imported Dutch licorice. But eventually you're going to have to turn from the candy selection and see... cock puppets. While the sugary selection alone can command attention for hours, you won't want to miss the wall-to-wall collection of nostalgic and naughty knickknacks — cock puppets are just the beginning. If you have an hour or five to kill, the place is open seven days a week and is the perfect spot to uncover Wizard of Oz items, after-pussy mints, blood capsules, mermaid ornaments, a wall full of greeting cards, and more gay pride paraphernalia than you can shake a dick at (where else could you find a gift bag that lisps "You look fabulous!" when opened?). To the Moon is the quintessential Wilton Manors stop to find gifts for grandma (an "I Love Jesus" shot glass), the drag queen next door (a tiara with flashing lights), and everyone in between (because who wouldn't love penis-shaped pasta?).

It's nice to patronize an independent gym, provided it has the essentials — a convenient location, parking, decent equipment, clean locker rooms, reasonable rates, and effective air conditioning. Sadly these are rare, and lacking them becomes an excuse to ditch your exercise regimen. If you're serious about working out, you may have to swallow your indie pride and sign up with a chain like L.A. Fitness. Behold: a Costco-sized gym with a Costco-sized parking lot! The equipment's brand new, and there's so much of it — two floors! — that you don't have to share your bench with guys who wear short shorts and leave sweat puddles. And the Federal Highway location in Oakland Park is ideal for many who want to exercise on the way to or from work.

All powerful women have mastered the art of multi-tasking. Since Broward and Palm Beach counties have some of the most vivacious, accomplished ladies in the country, it only makes sense that they congregate at the same salon. Let men have their poker nights and golf trips; any businesswoman worth her portfolio knows that more gets accomplished in the chair at the Elite Group than just extensions and highlights. Deals are made, cards are exchanged, heads are massaged — and it all happens under the detail-tuned eye of owner Nina Hallick, who has served Fort Lauderdale's best heads for close to eight years. She's got the recipe down pat: By cultivating an assemblage of SoFla's best talent, with each hair wizard specializing, there's a set of hands to match every personality. For those trying to get in touch with their inner glamourpusses, try one of stylist Rudy Rodriguez's voluptuous 'do's. For the professional who eschews cookie-cutter cuts, try colorist and stylist Sofia Navarro-Santiago. Refined power players seeking their softer sides should also consider Hallick's own chair.

The stickers on the pipes at Peace Pipe in Oakland Park say "For tobacco use only." You'll smile when you see them. While you're there, get some papers, a contraption that looks like a book but covertly stores herbal substances, a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt, clove cigarettes, or a nifty lighter that says "I stole this lighter." Then, for dessert, get a guaranteed detoxifying goop, in case someone remembers a reason they shouldn't be partaking in the party. If a certain someone remembers a certain test a certain parole officer might be administering soon, pick up a bowl of hookah tobacco. And if you burned one before you came (tobacco, that is — you know, always tobacco), you could splurge on a Pink Floyd poster, a lava lamp, and incense. And when you finally pick that new special friend from the wide assortment of glass pieces (don't forget a soft case for seven bucks), leave the tobacco sticker on for a while. You'll smile every time you see it.

Scarborough's Health Foods is a lot like grandma's house. It's small, organized, and full of vitamin bottles. The cashier is a sweet, elderly lady who dispenses health advice as she bags up your purchases. It's possible to get stuck there for hours, not because grandma is guilt-tripping you but because the place is packed with enough home remedies and organic stuff to give your inner hippie an orgasm. The shop carries grains, nuts, vegan foods, honey, organic beauty products, and vitamins that assist in everything from muscle building — with natural protein, of course — to preventing urinary tract infections. Perhaps most noteworthy is the extensive selection of good old-fashioned tea — the shelves are stocked with more bags of delicious flavor than what got dumped at the Boston Tea Party; you can purportedly treat the flu, common cold, or general anxiety just by sipping a steaming mug of their herbal magic.

Why do laundromats try so hard to be hip today? The neon exterior, the rock 'n' roll jukebox, the Pabst by the bottle... Come on. A laundromat is for doing laundry, no more, no less. And that's the classic no-frills service at Gateway Laundry & Cleaners. What makes this a destination laundromat is that it's located squarely within the best emporium in all of Fort Lauderdale. After you toss your dirty undies and your buck-25 in a machine, you can cruise Radio-Active Records for some hot wax, stroll a few doors in either direction for Italian, Thai, Spanish, or Japanese food, or browse the Gateway-area furniture stores. If you've got jeans in the dryer, you've probably got time to catch a flick at Sunrise Cinemas, or get a beer in a pub that doesn't have an identity crisis, like the nearby Kim's Alley Bar.

Bertil Roos, if you didn't already know, is a rather entrepreneurial fellow who grew up on a small fishing island on the coast of Sweden, developed a passion for automobiles, and grew up to race Formula One cars in Europe. He eventually skipped across the pond and opened his own driving school in the Poconos. But his ambitions didn't stop there, and now Roos has sunk his tentacles across the country, establishing franchises at a few select racetracks. Roos' Formula 2000 Racers — low-riding racecars with open cockpits and carbon-fiber bodies — go from zero to 60 in 4.2 seconds, reach 130 mph, and "pull up to 2 Gs in the corners." It's not cheap, though; a half-day sesh starts at $495; a five-day package costs more than 5 Gs.

This place is girly-girl heaven. It's an ode to the frivolous and fantastic. It has gifts, sweets, and other (mostly pastel-colored) merchandise aimed at party planners, ladies who lunch, and discriminating gals of any age. The first Swoozie's opened in the hoity-toity Buckhead section of Atlanta in 2001. Since then, 28 more of these shops dedicated to "celebrations" have sprung up across the country, including two locales in South Florida. Swoozie's has a large selection of "social paper" for printing invitations and keeping alive that good ol' southern tradition of sending thank-you notes for even the smallest acts of kindness. Folks with busy social calendars can find the perfect party accessories here — what's a backyard BBQ without fluorescent pink napkin holders shaped like Adirondack chairs? — or personalized gifts for your favorite sorority girl (Swoozie's can engrave or embroider pretty much anything). And for the designer nappy-bag generation, there is, naturally, a wide selection of festive children's goodies.

One is tempted to say the best place for musicians is a bar, or a music store, or some crazy hippie gathering on a pier. And it might even be true. But musicians already know about those things — about the weirdly intense pools of musical talent that gather nightly at Alligator Alley in Fort Lauderdale, and about the kindly personal service from little indie shops like Modern Music in Wilton Manors. What most musicians don't know about is Jimmy Star, SoFla's most crazily independent designer, and about his boutique in Gateway Plaza. Jimmy does everything, and he does it well — crazy-quilt takes on denim, jackets sporting political satire ranging from smart to funny to stunningly offensive, and big pleather body suits that take almost as much daring to wear as they took to create. And some of this shit is cheap. A few years ago, one of our New Times staffers bought a lime-green T-shirt at Jimmy's emblazoned with the image of a flying cat framed by the words "SUPER PUSSY!" while the staffer's friend bought the orange "MEGA PUSSY!" companion shirt. The total price for both items was $30. While this is definitely the far lower end of Jimmy's price spectrum, it does underline what Jimmy is all about: he doesn't need you to be rich. Just brave.

When it comes to men's underwear, the selections at most department stores are boring, boring, boring. You're likely to see some Calvins in basic white, gray, and black. Or maybe some baggy plaid Nautica boxer shorts. But with a huge gay population that's growing by the day, the men of Fort Lauderdale are clamoring for something much snazzier. They want fitted briefs that embrace their bulge so that their package gets the attention it deserves. They want flattering cuts that display hard-earned six-pack abs in their entirety, while offering a teasing glimpse of pelvis. That's where specialty shops like Audace come in. This store has trunk shorts, jock straps, and low-rise little briefs. They've got 'em in loud colors — orange, turquoise, canary yellow, lime green (sometimes all at once) — and wild fabrics like mesh and silk gauze. They've got fashion-forward brands like Mundo Unico, C-IN2, and 2(x)ist. They have exactly the sort of drawers you'd expect a high-priced call-boy or an über-fit male stripper to wear. Your lover deserves no less!

Moving on a Sunday and your couch won't fit into the new apartment? Got something kinky, like a slightly used bondage cage, that a religious charity might not accept? Well, thank heavens for Out of the Closet, the newest addition to Broward County's vast collection of thrift stores. These guys will offer refuge to your oversized furniture, with a smile, seven days a week. Plus, these shop boys don't look like drug addicts! Don't worry, this pink-and-turquoise store still has a noble cause. Out of the Closet profits go to the AIDS Healthcare Foundation, which offers free HIV testing and counseling while also supplying cutting-edge meds to the HIV-positive, regardless of their ability to pay. Across the country, Out of the Closet stores collect an estimated 30,000 donations and attract a million shoppers each year. The first Florida locale, in Wilton Manors (natch), opened in January.

You walk into a record store and comfort is an immediate issue. Go into one of those supposedly hip stores and you get someone behind the counter with his nose sky-high; ask a simple question and he all but laughs. Fuck those places — that's why you need to know Radio-Active Records. It's not just that Radio-Active has a wide selection of new and used CDs. They have employees who treat customers like friends. Plus, they're really making their mark by specializing in vinyl, ranging from current music to electro to rare grooves, and the staff knows the stock without being all pretentious about it. They've spread out lately, too, encompassing a performance space in the back where they offer local bands a new live venue, cementing their rep as a true music store.

There's no shortage of reggae aficionados in South Florida. It's a mini-Mecca for reggae lovers — so it would make sense to have a bunch of shops that sell the music. That's not exactly the case, though; instead, we have just a handful. Clearly leading the little pack is VP Records, the retail facet of the legendary record company of the same name. The store boasts a courteous, knowledgeable staff that's entrenched in South Florida's reggae community. Most impressive is their selection, which covers a ton of new and old reggae and soca recordings. Unfortunately, they don't have much vinyl anymore, as even their namesake transitions to an all-digital future, but they do have nearly every current release, plus roots and culture sections that rival what you'd find in Kingston shops. It's physically a small store but they've managed to cram a heap of music inside it, making VP the obvious first choice for local reggae shopping.

When you first buy a scooter, there are so many things to learn. Like: That curved stretch of road by the airport always has turbulent winds. Or: Tube tops are a bad idea. And: If you wear the tube top anyway, you'll likely end up riding half-naked, which will lead to a three-car pileup. Thankfully, there's a place where you can acquire scooter-riding savvy without having to fill out embarrassing police reports. At the recently relocated Scooter Superstore of Hollywood, you'll find helpful, non-pushy, knowledgeable employees. They've been serving Broward by selling and restoring new and vintage scooters for more than 35 years. Their spankin' new showroom comprises a bounty of makes and models; from street-style brands like Suzuki and Kymco to classics like the Genuine Scooter Company's Stella, they've got two-wheeled action to suit your monetary and aesthetic needs, plus hoodies, T-shirts, retro goggles, European helmets, and collectible doodads. Now you can stop scouring the Internet for Stella miniatures and Vespa coffee mugs and get your hands on the real thing. But leave the tube top at home.

A great sex shop needs to be open late, and have a friendly-yet-not-creepy staff as well as toys, videos, and other fun items. The Booby Trap has all of that and more. It opens every day at 10 a.m., and for those looking to add some fun to their freak in the wee hours, it stays open until 2 a.m. The building itself is decorated like a huge Bavarian cottage with virtually no windows, which assures privacy for shoppers once they get through the heavy wooden doors. The shopkeepers greet each person who enters, and offer assistance and comments when they notice a shopper who looks confused or amused. That soft "life-like" dildo? Well, it's a bitch to clean. Meme the Midget Love Doll? She's a top-seller. In addition to funky novelty items like ginormous butt plugs, Booby Trap has tamer staples like sexy lingerie and bachelorette party favors (those pecker sipping straws are always a crowd-pleaser). The shopkeepers say most of their customers are women and couples. Makes sense, because there are no skeevy video rooms attracting the serious perverts (messy jizz-booths are outlawed in Fort Lauderdale).

So you're checking out the graphic novel section at Tate's Comics when you hear a cacophony of bangs, grunts, and this odd whirring noise like the churning of a machine made out of rocks coming from next door. You're starting to get worried, so you run outside to investigate. Phew! To your surprise there's no horrid construction accident — just a half-dozen skaters taking turns careening across the beautiful half-pipe at Neighborhood Skateboard Shop. Each weekday from 5 to 8 p.m. and weekends from noon to 8 p.m. the friendly folks at the shop open up their badass wall-to-wall ramp to anyone with a board and a dearth of fear (provided you sign the waiver). While some folks are busy grinding, ollie-ing, and generally catching air behind the hand-painted cityscape mural, others are browsing the store's extensive racks for Habitat hats, DC shoes, and Spitfire wheels — or just chatting about the latest skating trends and thumbing through back issues of Slap and Thrasher that the shop gives away for free. Free mags, free skating, good company? It all sounds so... neighborly. Yup, and that's just the kind of place Neighborhood Skateboards is.

She's a lesbian and a mommy and she's been heard to say, "Man, I respect that you want to get that thing slapped on your arm, but I ain't doing it." Perhaps Chris Strait won't be so frank if she thinks you're a dweeb who deserves to live forever with a fundamentally dumb cosmetic choice on your forearm, but probably not. Cool Cat's coolest kitty will probably tell it like it is just the same. She'll talk to you about the design you need and how to buff up the lines so it won't turn into a smeary, mucky mess five or 10 years hence, and then go to work. She's got a light touch and a bedside manner that you can only call genteel. No stony-faced machismo here. No nasty feeling that, even though she's giving you a tat, she'd rather be beating you to a pulp in a bar fight. Just smooth and easy conversation that jumps from the vagaries of relationships to the fine points of comparative theology to the spicier novels of Anne Rice. And the work itself is excellent. Strait tends toward the traditional, but she can do anything and do it better than just about anybody — her subtle control of color is hard to beat, even as her personal aesthetic cries out for ruddy reds and rusty greens.

"Someday, there'll be a gala!" Those are the words that go through your head as you stroke the vintage evening wear at Jezebel. In the 18-plus years that this retail haven has called the Gateway Plaza home, you've scavenged through its racks and bins to find 1950s party dresses for weddings, 1940s bias-cut gowns for holiday parties, 1960s swimwear for beach bashes, and accessories galore to jazz up your modern frocks. You couldn't have this level of success at just any vintage store; Mary Ptak, Jezebel's proprietor, lovingly selects the items, and then makes them accessible by keeping prices moderate. For less than you'd spend at a mall, and without the pushy crowds, you can unearth treasures at Jezebel that are uniquely you. Better still, you know they won't turn up on anyone else at a gathering. And you don't have to hunt alone: Ptak and her staff can turn up your ideal new textile fling in record time, once you give them a few clues, e.g., "I'm thinking Breakfast at Tiffany's... on acid." So go ahead, get that '60s velvet number with the ostrich feathers. When the gala comes, you'll be looking fabulous.

He's the owner of the eponymous J. Miles novelty shop on East Broward Boulevard. It's a warm place. During three decades in Fort Lauderdale, Jerry Miles has attracted a lot of loyal customers. He greets shoppers like long-lost friends, and he loves to explain the bizarre items in the store. That Mr. Bubble T-shirt? It's from "the archives." The teapot clock? It's a leftover from the store Miles once operated at the Fort Lauderdale Museum of Art when it ran a Princess Diana exhibit.

These days, Miles is waging the biggest battle of his retail career. His landlord refuses to honor his lease, and Miles is toughing it out with lawyers. Small businesses are incubators for ideas, he contends. But he fears he may just end up with a plaque on the wall for taking on a Goliath.

NT: What are some of the wackier items you've sold over the years?

Fuzzy Wuzzy bear soap — it actually grew hair. I found a warehouse full of it. It would probably be considered hazardous now... Roadkill Helper — they got sued by Hamburger Helper because the boxes were so similar. The guy really got in trouble. They actually became collector's items... Penis pasta. It's always a challenge to get the hot items first. We had that pooping pig keychain — when you squeezed it a little plastic turd popped out of the butt.

Are the disco balls for sale?

I haven't had the heart to put a price tag on the big silver one. Each of those little mirror squares was stuck on by hand. Now they're mass-produced in China.

What about the life-size cow?

That's the seventh one I've had. I've delivered them to people's homes, sold them to restaurants. They come in a crate. I first saw the cow at a trade show, and at the time I was wondering how to give this store some street appeal.

Got any favorite schlocky movies?

 Oh definitely. They're the best thing to watch late at night. The Attack of the 50-Foot Woman, and also The Amazing Colossal Man, because he carries a 12-foot hypodermic needle. I tend to like big things, like the cow in my store. They come on a lot as reruns. They're so bad, they're good. 

It's all waiting for you: toasty-hot tater tots, ferocious Guitar Hero battles, cult television and movie nights, yummy specialty coffee drinks, Popsicle-stick architecture competitions, art shows, and more. Located in an unassuming strip mall on Commercial Boulevard east of Federal Highway, Undergrounds Coffeehaus, a little gem of caffeinated love, is as hard to find as it is to leave — but once you identify its Christmas light-illuminated window, you're home. Inside is a bohemian treasure trove of secondhand books, vintage synthesizers and guitars, and board game enthusiasts. Grab one of co-owner Aileen Liptak's mocha concoctions, sit on a squishy couch, and linger over Scrabble or Risk. Nibble on homemade cookies and hot-out-of-the-oven tater tots while you and your new gaming friends chill out to flicks like The Secret of NIMH and The Dark Crystal. This is the living room you wish you had, where the coffee's fresh and the company is always pleasant. The lights are probably on right now.

The differences between competing liquor stores might seem trivial to those in search of mere hooch. The distinctions are for those who seek a higher, finer something. Selection is a part of it, but not a huge one — some stores cater to the Boone's Farm crowd, some to the people who swill Hendricks, but most booze-pushers are happy selling to either demo. So it goes at 67, with one key difference: 67's got a 50-something-year-old English guy behind the counter who kindly, solicitously, and totally un-pushily engages every human being that enters his domain. His name's John and he's been there forever, or so it seems, escorting guests through 67's big wine selection and explaining the history of port, or why Château Lafite-Rothschild produces such lovely reds; spinning customers through the liquor racks and rapping about why Fris is a perfectly yummy vodka despite its reasonable price and what makes 25-year-old Highland Park scotch worth $250 a bottle. Customer service of this stripe is a dying art, and it's why even folks on the other side of town routinely make the drive to 67.