Atlantic Avenue and Swinton Avenue

Downtown Delray Beach is known for its fine-dining choices, beautiful parks, and generous, free public parking. There is even Old School Square, home to a museum, a theater, a vintage gymnasium, an outdoor pavilion, and an amphitheater. Every possible enjoyment you can imagine is found here, and every bit of it is bait. The great secret pleasure of downtown Delray is the people-watching. No other location provides the parade of variety that marches down the avenue day in and day out, from leathery George Hamilton look-alikes and their glamorous nip 'n' tucked Lizard Ladies to the yuppies either trying to look like adults but puking in an alley or trying to look like college kids but standing awkwardly in the corner of the "too loud" bar. If hipsters are your taste, grab a coffee at the Spot — it's cool, so you probably never heard of it. Want crunchy granola types and helicopter moms who don't believe in vaccinations? Try Nutrition Cottage or the Swinton Community Garden. There are suburban warriors with pedigreed dogs too big to fit in cars or small enough to live in purses. It is a festival for the senses and a delight for anyone with a humorous appreciation of the human race.

Squeegee Science

Screen printing is undeniably cool, no doubt about it. But hurting the environment is totally uncool. Luckily, Squeegee Science knows both of these things and harms no plants, animals, or people while cranking out killer designs. Although other screen-printing shops may talk a big game promoting eco-consciousness, Squeegee Science has the products, knowledge, and dedication to back it up. Founder Brett Wilkin has grown up in the industry and is personally invested in minimizing the ecological footprint on the world. Whether it's for a restaurant, band, or any other business, Squeegee Science has got it covered, all while keeping the planet a happy place to live.

In the early days of videogames, things were pretty simple. You stayed still and shot asteroids zooming past you. You went back and forth across the bottom and bounced a dot at bricks. Or you were a frog navigating across a busy roadway, trying not to get squished. Perhaps it is this deeply buried societal memory of Frogger that explains why Sunrise Boulevard is so goddamned @#$%^!@#^! Why, fellow citizens? Why?! Despite the heavy traffic here, pedestrians wade out into this relentless tide like unwary tourists into a rip current. Have you no care for your own welfare? Have you not eyes to see? And you seem so annoyed by the cars on the roadway. You give them angry glares. You press close to them, practically brushing the door panels with your knees, as they fly past. If they try to pause instead to let you cross, you stop and angrily wave them on, yet as soon as they start to move again, so do you. Sometimes, you bang the hood as you cross paths just to say "Hello." There is a traffic light every ten feet, and they are timed with frightening precision to make sure that drivers stop at every single one — sometimes twice. So why, dear walker, must you push that crosswalk button, only to slowly — so slowly — cross in front of moving vehicles so that by the time the light turns red and cars stop, you are long gone? Perhaps instead of more traffic lights or red-light cameras, the city should install large speakers every 20 feet and play the classic Frogger music. It surely won't stop the jaywalking, but it will make it much more fun.

The task presented to architect Robert Gatje of New York-based Marcel Breuer Associates was difficult: Design a library that would embody the early 1980s resurgence of Fort Lauderdale. To do this, he employed a hodgepodge of design elements that came together flawlessly. The glass façade facing north is imposing. The landscaped terraces are swank. Walls made of local coral rock are thoughtful. A reflecting pool that appears to run uninterrupted from the outside to the inside is striking (when full). And the six-story atrium punctuated by an Alexander Calderesque mobile (it's by William Gaterman) is the kicker. Many of these eye-catching features are currently obscured by construction fences, part of a project to swap in impact glass so the building can better handle high winds and hurricanes. Even though the Broward Main Library dates back only to 1984, officials have already started the paperwork to get the building designated as a Fort Lauderdale historical landmark. "You can argue that it's the most iconic building in the county," says Dave Barber, Broward County Historic Preservation Coordinator. "It's such an amazing space to walk into. You feel like you're in a special place, and that's how libraries and public buildings should be." Amen.

Mother Earth Coffee and Gifts
Christina Mendenhall

Do not abuse this bathroom. Unless you've paid for coffee and tipped the lovely proprietor, Patti, you don't deserve this kind of karma. A beaded curtain shields the entrance. Inside, it's cleaner and more spacious than a Manhattan bedroom. An ancient L.C. Smith typewriter rests on a bureau next to a book titled Ten Zen Seconds. Should you require further reading material, there is a well-stocked bookshelf too. Painted above the mirror is the inspirational message, "You are beautiful to me." When you go to flush, the ordinary commode handle has been replaced by a small coffee cup. "Life is best lived in the flow," reads the accompanying note. "Put your worries in this cup. Lift it up and let them go!"

Whole Foods Market

How to explain the hot mess that is the parking lot for this plaza that houses Whole Foods Market, Barnes & Noble, and numerous other yuppie magnets? Perhaps there is a component in fair-trade coffee and organic kombucha that causes people to throw all driving inhibitions — like the notion that you should, you know, not crash into other cars or humans — out the window like so many conventionally grown vegetables. The scene calls to mind a dystopian future wherein the world is given over to a race of Hummer-driving Pilates instructors who have smartphones for hands. Ninja-like reflexes are required for safe navigation, and heaven help you if your craving for raw cacao nibs strikes on a Sunday afternoon.

Convicted Ponzi schemer Scott Rothstein implicated tons of people in his blockbuster ten-day deposition in December, but only a few entities were described as being absolutely integral in his plot to steal more than a billion dollars. TD Bank was one of them. According to Rothstein, TD employees passed off bogus documents, helped put on "shows" for investors, and lied to depositors who asked if they could "lock" their accounts to keep Rothstein from getting to their cash. Rothstein said his scheme "absolutely would have ended" if TD performed even a cursory investigation of his dealings, so, while they're probably paying closer attention now, it's still unrivaled in South Florida for wannabe Ponzi partiers.

Vintage Diversity

Time machines might not exist, but thankfully vintage stores do. When shopping at Vintage Diversity, it's all about the hunt, so get ready to dig, and set aside a long afternoon. Wall to wall packed with treasures of yesteryear, there is no telling what's hiding underneath a 1950s gold-embroidered housecoat or an authentic pair of '70s, white, patent-leather go-go boots. Perhaps you're only looking to travel back in time for a Mad Men party or a Warhol Factory-styled event? Vintage Diversity rents out clothing and costumes too. Owner/operator and local vintage queen Melanie Garbo-Byrnes is always on-site and ready to assist with all your vintage needs. Forget about powering the flux capacitor, and drive down to Oakland Park instead.

West Palm Beach Green Market

With Cider Doughnuts, Boston Chowder Co.'s Maine lobster rolls, and Anita's Guacamole, this category could easily be renamed "Best Place to Justify Standing in an Ungodly Long Line," because you will do just that for any of these vendors, all the while producing enough back sweat to fill a Big Gulp. But it's so worth it! In its 17th season, the well-attended West Palm Beach Green Market throws together more than 60 vendors selling everything from locally grown hydroponic greens (lettuces, people), tropical fruits, orchids, artisanal breads and pastas, teas, olive oils, pickles, cheeses, handmade dog treats, heirloom tomatoes, jams, honeys, and potted herb plants that are occasionally hand-assembled by West Palm Beach Mayor Jeri Muoio. If you want to avoid the mayor's digits in your herbs, then steer clear of the area during the annual grand opening on October 15, when West Palm Beach parades out local politicians, radio hosts, and TV personalities to man the booths. The market runs every Saturday from 8 a.m. until 1 p.m. from October through April.

Swap Shop

"Where's the bargains?" No, it's not grammatically correct, and yes, you might occasionally find better pricing on Craigslist, but if you are a living, breathing, deal-hunting Floridian, you can't help but utter a Pavlovian "At the Swap Shop!" response anytime someone utters the above question. The Swap Shop slogan that was first made famous on local TV ads a few years back has even made its way into remix territory on YouTube. But it's not just the cheesy slogan that makes the Swap Shop one of the state's largest tourist attractions (the owners claim it is second only to Disney); it's the complete unpredictability of the vendors' goods on display. Airbrushed Jesus T-shirts, discounted adult toys, quinceañera garb, designer perfumes, vintage Atari games, tables upon tables of tube socks, a dozen roses for under ten bucks, and cheap produce can all be scored from one of the 2,000 vendors on hand, seven days a week.

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