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  • This place gives a good first impression, especially when compared to what we were expecting. It is tucked away in the corner of a strip mall far out of our way, but entering it, it is clean and well-sized. The space is generous, there were a few pool tables, a dart area, and a high stage for performers. The clientele was mostly older, and the waitress was that type of disheartened older woman with a cynically calculated trashy look, shamelessly bending over the table at any opportunity to show off what must have been a pricey augmentation, but with a bitter look in her eyes, instantly able to sense a (married) man unwilling to flirt and leave a too-generous tip. Not the best impression, but I guess everyone's got to make a living. I suppose I will not mention the hammered man who took a run at the other band's table and got taken outside; or the lonely old metalhead getting drunk in silent, solitary dignity; or the tiny couple in their fifties awkwardly dancing together; or the vigorous leather jacketed balding Goatee tearing up the dancefloor in his boots; or the two girls possibly on Game Time's payroll dancing together in a hopeless attempt to rouse up more drinking - it was a location with Characters, and from what Dan and Jessi described of their trip to a nearby London Drugs, we didn't even see the best of it! The food sucked, plain and simple. My burger was obviously frozen and tasted like offal, and the fries were the temperature and staleness that suggests a lengthy wait after they've come out of the oil. Angelo got some onion rings that contained no discernible onion, with a hard batter that was unbelievably salted: how he managed to absolutely smother it with parmesan cheese and Tabasco and survive the night is a mystery. Dan's friend got a plate of poutine that looked more like a bear turd. The stage itself was high, but deceptively tiny. Monitors - not sure there were any, I definitely could not hear anything and got hopelessly muddled during a soaring chorus, and nearly derailed the whole show. The audience thinned out and we sputtered to a whimpering close. Not our finest effort! Not the finest sports bar.
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