Smilin Jacks

Went with a friend today for lunch. Except for a few people around the Bar, the place was empty, and for the most part our server seamed content to hang about the bar and play with her phone. I had a burger with fries plus a Pop, my friend had wings with fries ad beer.
My food was warm and far from hot. Some of my fries were even cold. My friend seemed to enjoy his food as it was hot, but his beer was warm. Yes I could have complained and got fresh food, but I was hungry and wanted to eat. The burger was tasty, but the fries seemed like the same ones you can make at from after buying them at the grocery store. It has been quite a few years since I have been here. I don’t think I will be returning. I guess most of their $$$$ comes from beer and spirits during live shows.

Where to begin… Firstly, we were here for the band that was playing, an the only factor making our stay bearable. The Premium beer taps were out of order on a Friday night, but there were a few domestic beers available. Our waitress was new on the job, but was attentive. I heard the food wasn’t the most appealing, but took a shot on steak quesadillas. How hard are they to screw up? Not hard at all apparently. I think it was the 2 mm pool of what I surmised as some sort of vegetable oil lovingly caressing the entire bottom of the plate and enveloping more and more of the flour shell by the second. I wrapped my first and only slice of quesadilla in a napkin for a few minutes before tasting it. I should have waited longer, as the napkin was only able to absorb a third of what had infected with a vegetable oil that created a very distinct and annoying aftertaste. Not even two beer swishes cleansed that flavour. I sent it back. The men’s room offered no improvement from disappointment. The urinal fragrance were brilliantly blended odours of urine, vomit and bleach. Needless to say, I don’t recommend this experience to those not wishing to improve their outlook on life in general.