Somewhere along the walls of the Weekly Volcano's vodka storage area/employee restroom the words "Matador's happy hour motherf***ing ROCKS" are carved into the faded baby blue 1984 wallpaper.  These words, in all their utterly candid descriptiveness, spoke to me.  If someone, whoever that loyal employee/vodka drinker may be, had the passion to use the word "motherf***er" - well, it's pretty obvious Matador's happy hour really does ROCK.  It was clear to me that I simply must investigate.

So I did. Below you'll find a timeline of just what I found.

4:15 p.m. - Finally entered Matador's doors, skeptical I'd find a chair.  If it was as awesome as I had anticipated, seating would be limited.  Fortunately, I scored two spots at the bar. 

4:16 p.m. - Scanned the bar, scoping out the demographic.  The general seating area was empty, but the bar was a penal colony.  I had entered Matador's all-male happy hour review. 

4:18 p.m. - Hottie bartender Thomas takes my drink order; a glass of Malbec.  There's no discount on liquor during happy hour, but instead a very healthy price cut on select menu items.  I checked out the menu and giggled at the word "taco" multiple times. 

4:25 p.m. - Asked server Jessica if she minded working the "sausagefest."  She stated she hadn't noticed all the men.  I silently, and to myself, questioned her sobriety.  And her sexuality - but that's a story for Penthouse.

4:36 p.m. - Bartender Thomas agrees to measure exactly how many ounces are in Matador's glasses of wine.  My assumption of eight ounces is correct, twice as much as the average restaurant wine pour.  I'm both proud and embarrassed that I was able to guess it correctly.

4:41 p.m. - Females finally enter Matador to join the Brodeo. 

5:01 p.m. - Food arrived and JESUS CHRIST!  Grandest pile of happy hour nachos I've ever seen!  Was Jesus Christ actually here?  I couldn't tell amongst all the men at Matador's Peter Party. 

5:09 p.m. - Thought Neil Patrick Harris was sitting behind me.  No such luck.

5:47 p.m. - First and only bathroom trip.  Noticed Matador was now completely packed, with both genders equally represented.  

5:50 p.m. - Happy hour almost over.  Check served in a glass - how classy.  Or were they too cheap to buy those faux-leather check presenters? I'll go with classy.

[The Matador, happy hour 4-6 p.m. and 10 p.m. to 1 a.m. everyday, 721 Pacific Avenue, Tacoma, 253.627.7100]