Perhaps you've noticed longer lines to the bathroom at your favorite bar. Or you've seen revelers sneakily turning their bodies into nightclub corners to hide some illicit activity. It's not Miami's newest white-powder renaissance (that we know of). In today's economy, it's hard out here for a pimp — or a ho or a bus driver or a laid-off journalist or just about anybody else who wants to drink the night away but doesn't have $12 for each gin-and-tonic. Eight dollars, which is what a flask full of reasonably good vodka or whiskey should cost you at a liquor store, sounds a hell of a lot more attractive. We're not saying to slip Grandpa's metal Thermos into the pocket of some loose-fitting clothing before going clubbing is the moral thing to do — somebody has to pay those bouncers, after all — but neither is you being asked to fork over an hour's worth of pay for one beverage. At least that's how we justify it to ourselves. If a bouncer catches you making the liquor-into-soda transfer, we never met. And even if all you get is a Sprite, please tip your bartender a buck.