In the swanky South of Fifth landscape, there are more $20 martinis, $75 steaks, and $200,000 Bentleys than you can shake a Louis Vuitton bag at. Luckily, for less-than-monied locals, service-industry staffers, and club-weary tourists, there's Ted's — a welcome respite from the sensory overload of luxe elsewhere on the Beach. Although marked by a pink exterior and sprawling purple neon sign, it's surprisingly easy to miss. But once you're inside, it's hard to forget. The smoky, dimly lit interior is a level playing field for boozers. Yacht owners toss back Fireball shots with restaurant bussers. Locals ante up quarters to shoot pool with out-of-towners. Jimmy Choo-shoed hotties hunker down with wheezy, gap-toothed day drinkers. Heat games flash on TV screens. Classic tunes echo from the jukebox. And all while smokin'-hot, unpretentious chicks in fishnets and corsets happily serve Yuengling, Jamo picklebacks, and taquitos. There's no ennui, no affectation, no douchebags allowed. Just good times, stiff drinks, and new friends. It's an easy escape for an hour or two — or ten. Time slips away at this little hideaway.