There was a Blogger Happy Hour yesterday. I don’t do recap posts so you won’t read about how I got there before everyone. Or how Antipop…actually, no, Fez was there before, only that she attended in her capacity as a ‘person that had gone to Mateos then attended BHH”. It didn’t help that the wonderful establishment has a cocktail promotion every Thursday!
So anyway, selecting a cocktail is a most complicated task. It is not so much that the names are suggestive and basically lie there on the pages of the menu asking, nay, begging you to use them and make them feel dirty (Sex on the beach, pink pussy… hey, my blog will be listed as a porn site if I keep this up), but they also call into question a person’s sexuality.
Men can drink cocktails.
Women can drink cocktails. BUT real men shun cocktails. See, the thing about cocktails is that they come in these colors that sorta look like, how do I phrase this delicately… like puke! And the ones that don’t look like last night’s drink are pink. It’s a bit of a no win situation as far as that goes. Back in the day we used to have a debate over the color of Coca Cola, today, we are old enough not to give a shit. We know alcohol is a drink and not an art exhibit. Sadly, that fact has not fazed the guy behind the counter that seems hell bent on trapping the rainbow in a glass.
Elsewhere in Mateo’s.
The broadband company adverts that littered the men’s room seem to have been taken down. I don’t know whether the contract run its course or some dude walked into the loo, saw a poster proclaiming “You cannot ease yourself here” and thought, “The hell I can’t!” Then ripped it clean off the wall.
The Same Men’s Room
had posters advertising the sumptuous dishes that you could purchase from the establishment. And another poster advertising the cocktails. I have worked in the advertising industry for a couple of years, but I can’t, for the life of me understand how this stuff works. On a subliminal basis, maybe? Do you leave the loo after taking a dump, look at the poster and think, “Actually, now that I have space. . .” or better yet, you walk out, give the loo the obligatory glance and wonder, “what the hell did I eat?” then look at the poster and think, “hey!!”
I can’t begrudge the drinks poster really. You go pee, look at the wall and go for a refill. No biggie there. Heck, you can run back to your friends screaming, “I have seen this drink I think we should try out” and it won’t be weird. Provided you were not in the loo for not longer than 2 minutes.
After that, it’s just weird.