Brennan H.
Yelp
Do you want to get FUCKED?
DO YOU WANT TO GET FUCKED BY SALSA
El Matador. What can I say. You know how sometimes you hit every green light on the way to someplace, like the world opened up a secret tunnel for your personal journey? In L.A., that's how public transit works, and once in a golden while, you somehow get around with no specific plan, only cash for a few trains and a few buses, and you end up with a badass awesome day.
Edison Lounge (I'll get to that review sometime) gave me the 35-cent Monkey Gland cocktail excuse to get a little more loosely awesome than my otherwise composed amazing personage, so a blur of LA subway, a missed stop and a convenient bus trip later, we leap out into the night air and stomp over to EL MATADOR.
Burrito. Chicken. Spicy. That's all you need to know. Drink? Jarritos, of course, adoring fans.
Delicious. Delicioso, as they say in the southern lands.
Now, remember that old Tootsie-Roll pop commercial with Mr. Owl and Mr. Turtle? How many licks, etcetera, etcetera. Imagine the kid approaching either of his animal friends and handing them a burrito.
"Mister (Owl/Turtle)," the boy asks. "How many bites does it take to realize your mouth is being destroyed by an EL MATADOR burrito?"
A-one! A-two! A-Three!
A-three. Christ. The salsa. She is delicious. She is sweet. She will fuck you. If she were a beautiful woman, you and I, dear friends, would have no chance at all. But she is a salsa. You ravage her. She ravages you.
You are, together, ravaged.
And I, for one, could do for a second round.