Just because Miami is obsessed with online dating doesn't mean chivalry is dead. If you've made it past the messaging-and-emoji stage and are looking for that memorable spot where you'll have your first face-to-face encounter with Mr. or Ms. Right, South Pointe Park is the place. No, you won't be dining at Smith & Wollensky — that's definitely trying too hard on a first date — you'll be rollerblading your way up and down the South Pointe sidewalk, from the Miami Beach Marina to the South Pointe Pier. With the sunset as your backdrop and the ocean breeze blowing through your hair, you just may be compelled to grab that special someone's hand. Sure, it'll likely be to prevent yourself from falling flat on your face, but hey, it's a romantic gesture anyway. Then you'll want to slow things down a bit and have some one-on-one time. Conveniently, South Pointe has plenty of areas where you can sit and lay the mack. If you play your cards right (and if fate permits, of course), you'll end the night making plans for date two. Maybe then you can give Smith & Wollensky a shot.

When you're entertaining tourists in Miami, it can seem like an endless parade of beaches, shopping, bars, and clubs. Aren't you tired of traipsing up and down Lincoln Road or posing in front of Wynwood Walls? Why not show your next guests the best of "weird" Miami and take them to Stiltsville, that random outpost of wood houses built on Biscayne Bay. You can tell them all about how Crawfish Eddie built the first stilt house and how others quickly followed suit. Or you can describe how Stiltsville was dubbed Party Central in the late 1950s, when Miami's well-to-do would escape dry land to spend the weekend drinking and dallying in other vices. Today only seven stilt houses are left standing, thanks to a couple of catastrophic hurricanes, but the ones remaining are remarkably eerie and worth the trip. Sure, you need a boat to get there, but there's nothing more curious than Stiltsville.

Readers' choice: Wynwood Walls

Some of the most prime real estate on the planet is occupied by a handful of stalls and urinals inside an unassuming white structure in the sand. The public restroom facilities at Tenth Street in Lummus Park aren't state-of-the-art, but they are relatively new, serviceably clean, and spacious enough that lines (even for the women's) usually aren't out of control. But what really makes these restrooms priceless is their location: There's no hotter place to be than Lummus Park, in the heart of South Beach. And after a blissful few hours of soaking up SoBe's world-famous sun and fun in its most iconic spot — and probably drinking more than three ounces of something — you'll need a restroom. It's right there, answering your desperate cries. Forget about coughing up $20 for an unremarkable shrimp salad as an excuse to visit a nearby restaurant's porcelain. Thanks to the Tenth Street facility, you barely have to leave your lounge chair.

Readers' choice: Pérez Art Museum Miami

Miamians love to rant about the 23-mile concrete ribbon snaking above the city — the seemingly random placement of stations, the lack of east-west transport. From Medley to Kendall, there are 23 Metrorail stations, and since Brickell Station opened February 10, 1984, it's been a crowd favorite. Miami-Dade Transit estimates 8,430 boardings there each weekday. It's situated in the city's hub of finance and business, linked directly to the Metromover. Outside the turnstiles, buses to Little Havana, Key Biscayne, Coconut Grove, and Wynwood await. Soaring among Brickell's high-rises, noticeably loftier than the other stops, Brickell Station plays Beethoven's Fifth Symphony to announce approaching trains. The ominous "dit-dit-dit-dah" sparks quick smiles, even among the city's most callous commuters.

Amid all the uhntz-uhntz and cosmetic surgery, many seem to forget that the 305 was, in fact, once part of the Deep South. Before Julia Tuttle and our founding fathers established the Magic City, Miami was known as Fort Dallas. Formerly located on the William English Plantation near the Miami River, the fort, which was constructed around 1844, was used as slave quarters by owner William English. English, who is credited as one of the early settlers of the "Village of Miami," abandoned his plantation during the California Gold Rush. The estate was seized by the U.S. Army during the Second and Third Seminole Wars in 1849 and 1855 and renamed Fort Dallas after U.S. Navy officer Alexander James Dallas. When the wars came to an end, the fort was left uninhabited yet again. The structure served several purposes thereafter. It was a post office, a trading post, and even the Dade County Courthouse. But during the late 19th Century, the original boss lady of Dade, Mrs. Tuttle, purchased the property and used it as a storage unit. In 1904, Tuttle's son renovated the building, adding a porch and center gable. It was later rented out as a single-family home and a tea room. Long ago, plans were announced to demolish Fort Dallas. But thanks to a committee led by the Miami Woman's Club and the Daughters of the American Revolution in 1925, the structure was relocated to Lummus Park. Today the building is used as the headquarters of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Though not open to the public, Fort Dallas is the only remnant of Miami's slave and militia past.

Readers' choice: Vizcaya Museum & Gardens

Miami made national headlines this past March after the raid of Coco Farm, an illegal Doral slaughterhouse straight out of a Saw flick. On the site of the 70-acre farm, workers brutally slaughtered more than 4 million chickens, cows, goats, pigs, and other animals over the course of four decades. Their methods, complete with rusty knives and machetes, were the stuff of nightmares. The heroes behind the record-breaking bust were the agents of Animal Recovery Mission (ARM). ARM is dedicated to ending illegal slaughter, animal sacrifice, bestiality, racehorse abuse, and countless other horrors inflicted upon innocent animals. Its investigators go undercover to collect evidence about deeds so stomach-churning that most decent people can't even contemplate them. Thanks to the staunch bravery of these ARM operatives and their police partners, thousands of creatures have gone on to sanctuaries and safe havens nationwide, including 9,000-plus animals from the Coco Farm raid alone. That's more than 9,000 squawking chickens, rooting pigs, mooing cows, bleating goats, and other precious creatures, each experiencing care and compassion for the first time — all because ARM cares enough to take a stand. Imagine if everyone did this.

animalrecoverymission.org

Whether you're a college student, a freelancer, or unemployed and living some in-between life stage, odds are you're dying to get out of the house and find a good spot to get work done. At Pasión del Cielo, you don't have to feel like a burden for taking up couch space for hours on end. It's expected that this coffee shop's customers are coming by to get their study on. Here's the lowdown on your new office: Fast and free Wi-Fi: check. Diverse coffee bean selection (from Hawaiian to Ethiopian) to keep you wired: check. Early and late hours: check. Friendly baristas who'll feel like your lifeline when you're drowning in work, the right type of music to keep you motivated throughout the day, and a welcoming but focused environment: check, check and check. Pasión del Cielo has three Miami-Dade locations (Coral Gables, downtown Dadeland, and midtown Miami) and three set to open soon (the Falls, South Beach, and Doral). Downtown Dadeland is the best work spot, though, because it's spacious and the first three hours in the parking garage are free.