Being Adorably Lazy and Rude at The Matador

So, last night the spouse and I opted for Happy Hour Dinner because we were both too tired to cook. I work the evening shift, so Happy Hour Dinner is our primary alternative to ordering pizza.

In the Eastside Seattle area, one of the greatest happy hour menus in the history of the (local) universe is available at The Matador in Redmond.

For the uninitiated, this restaurant/tequila bar is gorgeous. The brick building is decorated with obviously expensive metalwork and oodles of Día de los Muertos-style skeletons.

The only complaint I can muster about The Matador's Happy Hour is that they do not serve horchata. What kind of restaurant will serve tacos without serving horchata? It's otherwise a grand choice for upscale Tex-Mex in the Eastside, but I have no idea what's up with that. But otherwise, the place is essentially flawless.

So last night, over a glorious $5 mountain of greasy, awesome, complex chorizo nachos, my weary spouse and I shot the breeze. We debated mini-skirts.

My husband took the position that scant clothing in cold weather is too impractical to be sexy, and "looks stupid." Being dressed warmly, I was able to do the mental gymnastics needed to take this as a compliment.

Still, I defended our people-watching subjects. I countered that the "How to Be Attractive to Men" articles in lady-mags, and their devoted readers, do apply social pressure.

But I had to agree that this pressure doesn't reflect the actual male aesthetic sensibilities that I am most familiar with. The bottom line seems to be more about selling fashionable clothing than boosting sexual attraction. I felt smug in the assumption that fostering sexual attraction, generally speaking, has more to do with showing social compatibility, than with showing a culture-obedient wardrobe. (Generally speaking.)

And together, we old lovers shared greasy, heavily loaded chips and mutually enjoyed my lack of food shame or "date clothes" at the moment. I felt defiant, and comfortable in seasonably-appropriate layers.

PS: Please do not associate The Matador with smug couples being total dickweeds about fashion, while people-watching through the windows. The Matador is better than that.

PSS: I do still love keeping an eye on fashion, and occasionally "updating my look," even though I know that doing so doesn't necessarily make me any sexier. I do it for myself, and I have no illusions about that. I may even wear a mini skirt in cold weather someday, just to rebel against this blog post.