Matador   

A border-town tone is set outside by the crimson neon that shines down on gritty West Burnside, and inside by melodramatic bullfight paintings that would suit a bordello. Funky, down-at-heel furnishings and an eccentric bar staff make leather-clad rockers and disheveled intellectuals feel at home. Expect the unexpected here: you might come in for a beer and end up sharing shots of Jack Daniels with a Vietnam veteran, or you might leave wearing a different outfit than you came in with. Like a never-ending house party, the scene ebbs and flows from a few clustered groups of chatting friends, to a raucous combination of pick-up lines, arguments over what was the original lineup of an obscure band, and inebriated whooping. The long narrow space has booths to the side and pool tables in back. DJs appear regularly each weekend. The menu is mostly Mexican, and weekend breakfasts include the fun, do-it-yourself Bloody Mary bar. --- Anne Marie DiStefano