Not really even a restuarant

*contains adult language*

Guys, this place is f*ked up. Don’t go here. Seriously. It’s more like a perverse theme park or haunted house than a restaurant. You shouldn’t need any more explanation than this. How often do you see a review this terrible? But just for the entertainment fact, I’ll indulge.

First off, the ambience was weird. I think they were trying to be sort of retro and hip, but they went way overboard. The table was made of pipes but it wasn’t the sort of normal “industrial” table you buy on Wayfair. It looked like they literally just went to the dump, found some old rust pipes, and welded them together themselves. Is it still trendy and cool if there’s old sewage dripping down your leg?

Further on that point, there was a forty-foot, factory-sized fan in the middle of the main dining room. Seriously. And it was blowing, too. I saw a guy sitting next to it hold his hat on his head during the entire meal with his wife. He did so even though it was a Jets hat, and so is probably extremely embarrassed about owning one.

In addition to the fan there was a large, metal ball with spikes all around the surface hanging from the ceiling by a rickety-looking chain, swinging back and forth. So I guess the theme isn’t industrial, it’s just… Death? I could hardly sip and chew when it felt like at any moment an enormous dangerous object could pop off its chain and flatten me. This “retro”, “industrial” shit is going way too far guys. We’re gonna die.

There was also a skittering noise that kept coming from the rafters of the “warehouse” dining room. Guys, I’m pretty sure there’s a f*king lizard in the restaurant. I don’t know if it was there when they bought the old warehouse and they moved everything in without looking around too much (they really might have, honestly, there are boxes of dusty old factory equipment and a forklift that looks shaky like it’s about to fall over), or it made its way in afterwards, but either way, there’s f*king Geico gecko crawling the walls of this “restaurant”. I saw it. The waitress just rolled her eyes like I asked her a stupid question when I brought it up, but that’s not a normal thing to have hanging around in a place that serves food, right? I’m not crazy??

Now, if you’re legally insane and you go here after reading this review, make sure you go to the bathroom first, ‘cause there isn’t one there. Yup, that’s right. I walked to the back corner of the restaurant, down a dim hallway,  through a shabby-looking door with yellow light coming through the crack expecting to see a toilet, but there was just this bearded guy chopping carrots alone at a desk saying “Fuck you, Dad” over and over again. What’s up with that? And when he looked up at me, he started breathing really fast and deep whilst staring at me, it felt like into my soul. I didn’t know what to do, so I just closed the door and left. I hope he’s OK. But wtf???

And when I asked the waitress about the bathroom she just groaned as if she’s asked that question all the time (and of course she is, because it’s the f*cking bathroom!), and explained that they used to have a bathroom, but couldn’t figure out a restroom option that would be sensitive to people “of all genders” as well as “people that only believed in two genders”. In the end they decided it was best to “avoid politics all together” and get rid of the bathroom entirely. So yeah, I held it.

The manager was very friendly, but I couldn’t communicate with him at all. I don’t know what language he spoke. I thought it was Spanish at first, but there weren’t any of those hard “j”s. I really enjoy people of different cultures and languages, but for some reason he just sort of assumed I spoke his language, too, and proceeded to talk to me in it without response for 15 minutes, during my main course. He was super nice, but it’s difficult to enjoy your food while nodding your head blankly and trying to catch as many English-sounding words as you can. And the conversation was intense, too. He was crying for like five of the 15 minutes. I really hope his family is OK.

On the actual food: they need to serve it with an instruction booklet like they give you with new pieces of furniture. For the main course they gave me a foot long piece of wood with holes on one side, a block of cheese, a small fork, and a plate of sausages. I was really confused, and thought they’d found out I was a budding Yelp critic and had given me some sort of complimentary appetizer, but they insisted that this was what I ordered, the “Chicken Soup”?? (I ordered the steak :/.)

So I just ate the sausages. And honestly, they were pretty good. Fresh and cooked perfectly. I don’t know why they don’t just serve those.

I also don’t know why they serve food if they don’t let people finish it. The busboy came around when I’d only eaten two of my four sausages and happened to be leaning back to take a sip of my wine. I guess he thought I was done, because he started shoving them into his bin. I wrestled with him for a few minutes, trying to tell him I wasn’t finished, but I think he was limited to the same language as the manager, because he just kept looking into my eyes and nodding while continuing to take the sausages away from me. I bet he took it to the back and finished it himself, because honestly he looked hungry. They should pay their staff more. I had to go back to trying to figure out the wooden plank and block of cheese, it was terrible.

Oh, and the seating. The manager must love Game of Thrones or something (I think I actually heard him say “Mister Targaryen” at some point), cause the seat I was sitting on was made to be like the “Iron throne” from the show. Which is cool and all, I like the show, but in practice it’s the most uncomfortable seat I could f*king think of. It’s made of swords. Metal, sharp swords. Seriously. I cut my finger on it. I probably have that disease you get when you get cut by metal but haven’t gotten your vaccine because I’ve never gotten my vaccine. So, not cool, zero stars.

At the end, a waiter walked up to me with a small plate while cupping his hand around it, making shy eye contact with me. He seemed sorry about the whole experience I’d had, and I assume that’s why they gave me the free dessert. Even though they sang happy birthday, I don’t think they actually thought it was my birthday (it was four months ago). It was just their way of apologizing.

When I left, they insisted I needed to leave via a rusty ladder hanging from the ceiling. Apparently it was “part of the theme” and if I just went out the normal front door I’d “be ruining it for everyone”. I just shook my head as I climbed, it seemed so fitting after the entire experience that I’d have to further endanger my life. On the roof the manager had the balls to ask that I give them a review on Yelp. Well, I’m leaving you a review, don’t worry. Also, he could suddenly speak English? WTF? Why did he talk to me in another language for so long? I didn’t even ask him if his family was OK.

Honestly, I’m happy I got out of that place alive, albeit with a bit of trauma. The prices are good but the therapy bills required afterwards make it 5x its actual price on paper. If you go, take out life insurance and bring a helmet and fire extinguisher.

ZERO STARS

Adam