Muppets XXX

9th August 2006

A few days into our Argentina trip, we have dinner at Te Matar Ramirez, a restaurant our guidebook describes as “sensual.” The all-red interior and French slow jams suggest a swanky gay club, but for the copious murals of masturbating women. (Closeted swanky gay club?)

We find our table and order champagne, which arrives with dubious pink straws in the flutes. We remove the straws and are about to toast when Bryan notices the sperm-shaped saltshaker. He picks it up and bumps it repeatedly against the round butter dish. This is the TGI Friday’s of sensuality.

The menu has more photos of women masturbating (methinks you doth protest too much, boys), along with some alarming menu descriptions. Bryan asks whether I would prefer to start with the “I smolder with the mist of your most intimate folds” clams, or the “You watch in ecstasy, I pour out and you slowly sip me” Camembert and pastrami. We decide to skip the appetizers.

There’s a stage in front where the pornographic puppet show is set to begin. “There’s a pornographic puppet show?” I ask Bryan. He nods. I pick up the saltshaker and begin to bump it against my head.

Four actors dressed in black take the stage and begin the show. It is plushly explicit, and though my sexual-pun Spanish is somewhat rusty, the basic plots aren’t tough to follow. A a French maid services a bald puppet; two puppet schoolgirls dally together in googly-eyed rhapsody.

Bryan and I are still preoccupied with the menu descriptions. Our waitress arrives, and I order the “Thrusting my desire deep into the temple of your body” salmon. Bryan has the “She played in me with her lascivious fingers, I caressed myself” grouper. Appetites curbed.

Meanwhile, the puppet masters are really getting into the hot puppet action. My eyes water in embarrassment for them as they moan, stretch their faces into expressions of orgasmic ecstasy, and move rhythmically to the action onstage.

As the actors gyrate in the background, Wonder Woman puppet straddles Buff Guy puppet, and they perform various superhuman acrobatic feats together. I wait patiently for the “Golden Lasso” scene, which never materializes. Wonder Woman without bondage? What’s the story, people? It’s like peanut butter without jelly, Anne Margaret without her tights, Julianne Moore as a blonde.

I suggest that we would enjoy the evening much more if we skipped the cocktails and ordered an entire bottle of champagne each. Perhaps they’d bring the bottles with giant novelty penis straws? Bryan declines on the grounds that it would take an eternity to drink them, and they would almost certainly come with giant novelty penis straws.

We push our food around on our plates, pay the bill, and wait for intermission so we can run for the door. Once outside, we gaze at each other, dumbfounded.

“I-am-so-hot-right-now,” I say. “Do-me-right-here-on-the-street.” We pretend to maul each other for a few seconds, then Bryan suggests that we go somewhere for dessert. Now this is a man who knows how to get laid.

120 thoughts on “Muppets XXX

  1. Laura

    Whoa. Just…whoa.

    …but, you know, in case I’m ever in Argentina, how was the food? Did you guys at least enjoy the sensual-salmon and the groper-grouper? :)

  2. Maggie Post author

    Do they have a Hooters in the Bay Area? I don’t think they have one in San Francisco. Yet. Or maybe we just have more interesting options for diners in need of sexy attention.

  3. sarah

    The latest issue of Bitch magazine has an article about the bondage history of Wonder Woman. You MUST read it.

  4. geoff

    There is a Hooters in the Bay Area. It’s next to the In n Out down by Fisherman’s Wharf.

  5. Cathy

    Just discovered you and your blog (via jason shellen during an interview for my very small-town newspaper)…love it all, but I have one question. Will you be wearing the maternity version of the “I fuck like a girl” t-shirt anytime soon?

  6. Cathy

    p.s. forgot to mention…if you’re in the mood for a bucketful of hot wings, or maybe a few steamed clams…you can always visit the Hooters in Dublin.

  7. The Bad Sister

    Reminds me of a trip I recently took to Lake Ozark, Missouri. Holy Shit, XXX rated coves where you feel out of place if you ARE wearing a swimsuit and it wasn’t too uncommon to see girl on girl action right there on the boat next to you.

    Oh, I almost forgot our hotel was called, “Big Dick’s Halfway Inn”

  8. Kelly M.

    I thought that you had to be kidding at first, until I saw the picture. That is the funniest, greatest, scariest things I have read in a long time.

    You guys must be awesomeor something.

  9. Auntie Yolanda

    First, I wouldn’t go into a restaurant with the name “I’ll KIll You” (Te Mataré)even if my name isn’t Ramirez. Second, in the not so bucolic region of the Santa Cruz Mountains, there is a resaurant called Cíao Bella. The owner, wearing a leather thong swings on a trapeze-type contraption over your table. I don’t recommned middle aged skinny white butt over your pasta.

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