Everyone knows there isn't a legitimately cheap thrill to be found in money-mad Palm Beach County, so we decided to focus more on the thrill aspect of this award. And what could be more thrilling than driving your car as fast as you damned well please? Although you can achieve this cheaply on the highway if you so desire, there's a legal way. That would be at the quarter-mile drag strip at Moroso Motorsports Park, located off the Beeline Highway just north of Indiantown Road. Here's the drill: You pay $20, pull into the 330-foot concrete launch pad, rev your engine, and zoom down the drag, all the while being timed by a Compulink. If for some reason, your testicles haven't dropped yet, this may be just the thing. Wussies can pay $13 just to watch.
At press time, luxury car-rental shop Gotham Dream Cars had seven shiny machines in its fleet: a Lamborghini Murcielago with scissor doors ("as loud and as screaming a car — visually and acoustically — as you can get," according to the company owner, 28-year-old Noah Lehmann-Haupt), a Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder ("the baby Lambo"), a Ferrari 360 Spyder ("a classic"), a Ford GT ("an engineering marvel... underrated... by far the best car in the fleet"), a Porsche 911 Turbo Cabriolet, a Corvette GO6, and a convertible 2007 Bentley Continental GTC. Gotham can provide insurance or work with yours, and they'll bring the car to you on a special delivery truck. They'll even forgive you for returning it with an empty tank or leaving your McDonald's bag on the floor (you have to take this sucker to the drive-through!). But at these prices — the 'Vette costs $495 a day, the Bentley $2,250 — they better. Says Lehmann-Haupt: "If someone crashes the car, we make sure no one was hurt and then give 'em a new car. They'll end up having to pay for the crashed car, but we wouldn't want that to ruin their weekend."
Spyke's Grove
They came for the spot of subtropical sand with an orange tree in the backyard. That's the way Florida was built: countless bungalows on drained swamp with fresh citrus at near arm's reach. Then came the canker scare and the state's disastrous killing spree, wherein the dream was turned into a horror show of arboreal carnage. That unfathomable, shameful, and incredibly costly slaughter is over now. Since it appears to be safe to have a juice-maker in the backyard again, Spyke's Grove is the place to find one for you. They've got citrus trees of all stripes: lemons, limes, oranges, tangerines, tangelos, grapefruits, limes, kumquats, you name it. And, most extraordinarily, they sell "cocktail" trees. No, these don't come with tequila inside the limes. They're spliced to grow different varieties of fruits on the same tree. We just got one with five different fruit varieties, including lemons, oranges, grapefruits, tangelos, and tangerines (all of them seedless). These are a bit more expensive (a 15-gallon is gonna run you about $225, whereas a regular tree goes for $140), but man, are they cool.
When you show up for your appointment with Stevie Moon or his cohort, Todd K., you realize one thing the moment you step inside the new, cathedral-ceilinged studio: You are not about to get beaten up. This may seem like an obvious point, but it's not. Most tattoo parlors are fetid swamps of masculine aggression, where the artists and the patrons seem at least as interested in seeming badass as they are in tattoos. Not so at Stevie's: Just like in the duo's old digs in Gateway Plaza, there is a couch, there are shelves overflowing with books about art (and not just tattoo art— Stevie and Todd are as into Marcel Duchamp as in Don Ed Hardy, and probably more so), and there are the two artists, quick with smiles and pats on the back and excited as hell about what they're about to do to your epidermis. Their work is as technically proficient as anybody's and vastly more proficient than most, but the difference is all in the ethos. These folks want to talk to you, want to find out what you're really interested in, and they want to make sure you get something you'll be happy with in ten (or 50) years. That's why there's no prefab flash art on the walls, and it's why the books on the shelves cover so many bases — the statuary of Oceania, lesser works of Flemish masters, it's all up there. And though the guys at Stevie's are always happy to stick some old Renaissance fresco on your thigh, they're quick to tell you that their real passion is for custom work — a concept they approach with a wide-eyed sense of happy adventure that is entirely refreshing and very nearly unique. They know that being an original is way more exciting than being a print.
Macabi's Cigar Bar
We may have been in a port-wine-induced haze, but we could have sworn that Macabi's has something that so many modern establishments lack: an aura. It wasn't just a cloud of delicious cigar smoke. We recall dim lighting, a couch in the corner, and endearing piles of clutter behind the bar. There were chatty businessmen with shirtsleeves rolled up and glammed-up ladies taking pins out of their hair after stopping in for the last drink of the night. And then there was gregarious, opinionated owner Ashokkumar Motibhai "Pat" Patel and his wife, Kit Kirti, talking about growing up in Uganda, discussing city politics, and tipping the bottle for us again and again. (The only person who's unwelcome here, they say, is the city official who cost them $175,000 to defend a dispute about parking. "If she comes in here," yells Kit about Commissioner Cindi Hutchinson, "I kick her out!") So, politicians aside, you can enjoy 15 types of clove cigarettes, Pirates Brew and Spaten on tap, Silver Oaks cabernet ($225 a bottle), and more than 600 kinds of cigars ($5 to $50). You can enjoy all this, that is, if you're lucky enough to snag one of just 11 seats at the bar.

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