Don't make eye contact with a belly dancer

If you've learned one thing in the brief time we've had together, it's probably this.

I'm not necessarily the best communicator in the world. I eat - and I'm good at that. (Most obviously.) I drink - I'm pretty good at that. (I've got a no-vomit streak going, and that's not going to end anytime soon.) I can hold a conversation with most people. But when it comes to playing cat and mouse with someone who is half-naked and gyrating like a top, not so much.

Friday night, my friend Marcedes, her husband Matt, and our friend Tom all went to Mataam Fez, 4609 E. Colfax Ave., for dinner. You don't need me to tell you about Colfax east of Colorado Boulevard. Lacking the charm of Capitol Hill Colfax and Golden Colfax, this part of Colfax is the part that you speed through. I wouldn't call it scary, but it's definitely run down - it reminds me more of Detroit than any other part of Colorado. 

Anyway, it's not the best part of town. This little place has received 3 1/2 out of 5 stars on Yelp and I guess I'm just going to have to disagree. The service was hit or miss. Our hostess, who also functioned as a tea giver (giver of teas? Is that her formal title?) was warm, friendly and helpful. But our server couldn't be bothered. 

Dude, you had like 3 tables. And you still forgot my beer.

Did I mention there was a belly dancer? *Puts "Man Hat" on* She was probably in her middle 40s, which is not a problem, and in great shape, but I just have a problem gawking at women who are mere seconds younger than my mom. So she walks by, hips flying, hand cymbals flailing, and I make the mistake of a lifetime.

I looked at her in the eyes.

In that moment, I glanced at the hint of a life unfulfilled. Dancing for tips, smiling at all manner of food-inhaling gawkers. And I must have given her the sad eyes. Because after she got the sword out (yes, the sword. Which she proceeded to swing about wildly) she wouldn't leave us alone. So Matt gives me a dollar, in the hopes that her money lust will be fulfilled by a single dollar and she'll go away. "Where do I put it?" I ask. They laugh and point to her bottom/underwear thing. 

So in an attempt to not catch her desperation, I try to hand her the dollar. And she looks at me, points to her crotch and says, There. Like she's a stripper or something. 

Needless to say, I very gingerly place the dollar in her whatever-you-call-it and turn around. Slowly, so as not to disturb the stripper, I mean dancer, in her natural habitat.

On a normal day, I can forget all of that. As long as the food is good, I don't care if I get a smile with my service.

AS LONG AS THE FOOD IS GOOD.

Decent. Edible. Different. These are all adjectives that I would use to describe the food. 

Our first course was a Lentil and Lamb soup in a tomato base. It was good, but a little bit too salty for my taste. And I love salty things. Our second course was a plate full of various vegetables cooked different ways - nothing to write home about, except maybe the carrots that had been cooked in a hot sauce. Our third course was a meat dessert pie, which was by far the highlight of the meal. Fourth came our entrees - mine, Lamb in a honey-almond sauce. Again, meh. Finally, tea, which was chai-like and waaaay too sweet.

I took pictures of all our food, but will only threaten you with these two.

If you like to wear a towel over your left shoulder and use it as a napkin, give this place a try. If you like to make awkward eye contact with half naked women, give this place a try. If you are ready to endure mediocre food for one good course, by all means, give Mataam Fez a try.