Reville Veillard, employee of Flamingo Taxi, has driven many a drunk partier in his day, and it hasn't always been pretty. "Sometimes they throw up in the car," he says. But despite the cleanup, Veillard doesn't mind chauffeuring the extremely inebriated. Even after twenty years of crappy tips and wasted patrons, Veillard still claims, "They're good people." Yes, better to ruin the interior of a taxi rather than your own driving record — or someone else's life. Now don't go and make Veillard change his mind about these "good" drunks; if you've had a few too many drinks and you're on Miami Beach, call him for a ride at 786-306-3926.

The Barnacle Historic State Park is the perfect environment to enjoy a relaxing high. After you smoke that Philly, step into Old Florida. Walk through the gated entrance, drop some change in the donation box ($1 is suggested), and get a glimpse of what Miami looked like when it was first settled back in the mid-1800s. As you enter the dark corridor of tropical and exotic trees, you can smell the native coffee shrubs that grow wild here. Be careful which plants you touch, because there are poison woods growing here. Look closely and you might be able to watch black sap dripping down their orange trunks (a must-see if you're in the proper state). Inhale the intoxicating breeze as you reach the end of this tropical hardwood hammock, stepping into the five-acre park with Biscayne Bay at its tip. Sit and relax on one of the plush outdoor sofas or rocking chairs as the sailboats on the blue bay slowly float by. Check out the artesian well that was the main source of water for the estate, which was first settled in 1877 by Ralph Munroe, one of Coconut Grove's founders. Take a tour of his house, built in 1891 and the oldest still in its original location in Miami-Dade County.

We're pulling out of the Miami Beach Marina's parking lot on a recent Friday evening. We've pounded a few libations at Monty's Raw Bar, so we're not quite sure what to make of the portly man in the denim overalls and T-shirt. His right hand is clutching something inside a plastic bag. Is it a gunç A knifeç Does he want to kill usç He sprouts a grin that spreads from ear to ear. His curly black hair is a mangled mess. He pulls out a gigantic vibrating faux penis from the bag. "Hey, bro, if I give you a couple of lines of cocaine, will you let me stick this up your assç" Ummm, no. He cackles off to a nearby white stretch limo, where he offers the same proposition to a man hanging out of the passenger-side window.