Once upon a time, I believed in second chances on subjects like love and bad dining experiences. This restaurant restored my ability to toss that cognitive bias rationale like last week's fish wrapped in newspaper headed for the landfill. The place is usually packed at bar time, but anyone who tells you that it is somehow representative of the benchmark of this cuisine is either a sadist or a moron. It's too bad, because a city of Madison's size and diversity deserves a late night Mexican spot at least as good as what you'll find in Milwaukee's Walker's Point neighborhood. Let's start with the fucking room temperature beans, which tasted like they came out of a can boosted from a minimum security prison. Most of the other ingredients used here tasted like they could also have been borrowed from the same correctional facility. I mean, they give prisoners starchy food for a reason-so they feel like taking a nap instead of causing a fucking revolt. Most of the reviews for this place were probably posted by well-meaning college kids that were just happy to have something convenient in their stomach after a hormone-fueled bender (cause let's face it, greasy low grade food is an acceptable substitute when you ain't gonna get any sex that night-am I right, kids?). Ignore those reviews, and ignore this place unless you want to feel like leading a prison riot after your meal runs through you like the number three express train in NYC.