On weekends, after the dinner crowd goes home to sleep off the food coma, Tequila Ranch gets clubby. The tables are pushed away, and the dance floor emerges. It wraps around Tequila Ranch's most popular attraction, the mechanical bull. And there I am. It's 2 (or 3) in the morning, I'm standing in front of this awesome machine, and I'm thinking: Tequila, plus girls in silky spaghetti straps, multiplied by a mechanical bull, must equal some amount of sexiness. Right? Wrong — as are most drunken calculations. It was not sexy; it was funny as hell. These girls are flopping around, chubs hanging out, tequila in their gut, mouths full of throw-up, holding on for dear life but losing all grip on self-respect. Fun times, fun times. Reggaeton and booty — the official chants of this human sacrifice — keep the celebrants dancing. Happy hour will have you seeing double Monday through Friday from 4 to 7 and 9 to 11 p.m. Customers — that is, those spending bucks on booze and chow — can ride that bull for free, though it is recommended you tip the bull dude ($10 is the usual going rate per ride, so don't be cheap or he'll have your ass flying off faster than you could say, ¡Órale, cabron!). And before you lose that Latino funk, check out Salsa Sundays. Be there by 6 p.m. and get free lessons so you don't look foolish. Notable drinks: the 45-ounce souvenir cup margarita and the Lovely Bull, an evil concoction of prickly pear, Herradura tequila, peach schnapps, Red Bull, and soda.
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