Is it bad that I always think I hear the ice-cream man?

So WTF people?....

The other day I went to lunch with my mother in-law and Gina. Mom had heard from a few friends that this tavern had great seafood.

While driving there, I thought  Tavern, "um not the kind of place normally associated with Gina’s mom but whatever".

Arriving into the empty parking lot, walking passed the dirty chairs and ashtray on the front porch and then stepping onto what must have been a 200 year old stained rug we were greeted with” Sit anywhere”.

Our first table option had dirty dishes on it. It was clear that this was not a place known for decor or cleanliness.  So we just sat at the first table we thought might be hepatitis free.

OK, we all thought it , but no one wanted to say it “Run!” let’s get the fuck otta here. 

Then, the waiter/bartender  left his one bar patron and their conversation, just long enough to waddle over and take our order .Lets call him shiny, as he never said his name, He a middle aged Archie Bunker type, a portly fellow with a  red  shiny face  . I wondered if he thought us very out of place.  Personally,  I felt as if we had wandered into deliverance.

So, we perused the place mat that conveniently doubled as a menu. Mom and I thought fried shrimp, you can’t really go wrong with that . I’m the kind of gal who could eat a shoe, if it were fried. Gina went the clams over pasta route.

While waiting,I searched the walls for that welcoming sign that at least this year the board of health  saw this place fit, It wasn’t  there!

Do I really have to say it?  The food was awful, Gina was the first to say it, and while trying to desperately save her meal ,she asked shiny  for some red pepper.  Shiny surprised us all with this.

Plunk!    There it was....the be all and end all ...a red pepper container possibly from the seventies ,with enough dirt accumulated on it to warrant and archaeological dig ,possibly finding Jimmy Hoffa or the Lindbergh baby.

                                                                        

                                                                  

While Gina tried to keep her mother from fainting, I was certain a bad shrimp went down my throat.

We all agreed to leave, mom called Shiny over and told him how awful everything was, and that  the container sent us over the edge. All he could muster was a halfhearted "sorry."

While waiting for our bill, Shiny must have had trouble with his abacus ,the lone man at the bar yelled to shiny he’d be back "just running out for a hoagie."  So many red flags....

Just then the kitchen door opened and out came a filthy, buck toothed ,acne stricken, probably  banjo playing teen. I thought to myself, I just saw the Fry Master who can fuck up  shrimp. He was followed shortly thereafter buy a shifty looking  dirty ,middle aged ,America's most wanted drifter type man in a dirty apron.

Moral to this story .....  

 1.  My mother in-law’s friends hate her and are trying to kill her.  

 2.  Give people enough booze and they will eat anything. 

 3.   I should really listen to my little voice, especially when I hear banjos.

Note:  Mom called to complain, and  one of the owner ‘s told her he would have to talk to the other owner, as he was the one there when we were...... humm , I  wonder if he was the America’s most wanted drifter…….