It's easy to pass Bleu Bistro without a second glance, given the array of more attractive restaurants and boutiques that make up Broadway's strip in Capitol Hill. But beyond its uninviting exterior lies a peculiarly charming gem. The dark space is lit with candles and Christmas lights. Most of the tables seat two, and have velvet curtains that can be drawn for privacy. The wooden walls of each nook are covered in old gum and Sharpie-scrawled declarations like "Jenny is beautiful." It's all either very claustrophobic or very cozy, depending on your preference. For those who deem it the latter, there are hearty pasta dishes and loads of stiff drinks to be had. During my most recent visit, my date ordered a Sidecar Slut (rum, muddled lemon, and Tuaca) and I opted for a Horny Girl Scout (coffee liqueur and Schnapps), which gave me a decent buzz but tasted too much like toothpaste. Our drinks were followed by chicken pasta laden with cream sauce and roasted garlic. It dawned on me that I was, in fact, sitting in a private booth with a romantic meal, some cocktails, and a handsome man. But my vision of jumping my date's bones right then and there is an idea that's clearly occurred to other frisky folks. For just moments later I noticed that angled strategically toward us was a tiny camera, ensuring that no funny business would be going down in our nook that night, or any other.