A Night at West Sixth's Tequila Ranch: “Come on Boobies!”

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A skilled bull operator could make these women's tops magically disappear.
Wanna see some boobs? Then come on down to Tequila Ranch (1229 W 6th St., 216-566-8226), where the mechanical bull ride delivers approximately 2.5 breast-popping-out incidents per evening. I had no idea of this unique phenomenon until a drinking companion suggested we try it the other night. I pictured a scene out of the John Travolta movie Urban Cowboy, where greasy field hands with boot spurs hold on for dear life while their girlfriends named Bobby Jo hold their bottles of Genesee. (To be fair, I’ve never actually seen this movie, but from looking at the jacket at the video store, I figured this was a pretty accurate assessment). So imagine my surprise when, after arriving at the bar, we were treated to a scene more akin to the movies I used to download off the Internet when I was 13 (give or take a decade or so). In case you didn’t know, the mechanical bull is like television for horny drunk guys, who stand around in a circle, cell-phone cameras outstretched, hoping for a view of some nipples as if they were waiting for Puxsatawny Phil to emerge from his hole on Groundhog Day. Never before had I understood the fine art involved in operating a mechanical bull. The operator stands off to the side, jiggling a metal joy-stick, causing the bull to either buck backward or forward, or spin around in circles. If a guy happens to wander into the ring, you can be sure he’ll be toast within seconds. After all, the crowd didn’t come here to see some man-boobies. When a girl – or, even better, two girls – gets on, however, the operator takes his time, nudging the stick ever so gently, as if he were trying to pluck a teddy bear with one of those mechanical claws. The highlight of the evening came when two attractive girls boarded the bull, one of them in a short dress. This raised a previously unthought possibility: full frontal! As the girl mounted the bull, and her skirt rode up past her waist, you could hear her boyfriend, lost somewhere among the crowd, holding her high heels and purse, yell, “Noooooo!!!!!” But his cries were quickly drowned out by cheering. “If you think this is good,” said a guy standing next to me, “you should have been here last week.” Yes. Yes I should have. -- Jared Klaus

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