It's the kind of joint you'd see in Fight Club or a snuff film. It's hard to believe the place could actually exist. Smack in the middle of South Beach is a grimy, real-life dive bar you've never heard of.
So you check it out. You head to the Floridian, a towering condo on West Avenue located a stone's throw from the usual SoBe traffic pouring from the MacArthur Causeway onto Alton Road.
There's no sign of any kind of bar, but with a wink, the security guard out front points you toward a locked side door. You press a buzzer and gaze into a security camera on the ceiling. You're lucky. The guys inside decide you belong, the door buzzes, and you walk up a staircase and down the rabbit hole.
You immediately realize it's everything you could have hoped for but didn't dare to dream: ribbons of hazy cigarette smoke around a simple bar lined with loudly guffawing old men in white T-shirts and VFW trucker hats; yellowed murals of bald eagles and soldiers in Vietnam and WWII trenches; a jukebox spewing ' 70s rock; a tattered pool table in the corner; and Buds for $2.25 and Coronas for $2.75.
So dive in.