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"I'm sure if I knew how to dance, I could pick up some girls here, but I can't dance for shit," said a Miami native, Nick, on a recent Saturday night. "This place makes me want to snort coke," he added as he eyed attractive women in Brazilian jeans.
At the edge of the floor, a father drank a Corona as his children hung onto him. Two freshly pubescent girls with braces posed and giggled as one of their dads snapped pictures. The scene was alive with family fun and island kitsch until Rakim's "Addictive" cleared the floor. A reggae cover band took the stage under the deserted tiki and played a cover of a cover: Shaggy's "Angel," the Sixties ballad "Angel of the Morning" redux. Now the only semblance of dancing came in the form of a wobbly toddler who hobbled his way toward the band.