Holy F*cking horrible! This place could be so amazing if the management gave a single sh*t about the people they were hiring and if they were currently receiving social security checks from the government due to the fact they were over the age of 65 and clearly had no idea how to work in or around a restaurant environment. Neither semi-working gals cared or gave two f*cks about who walks in the establishment.
The well hung Irish Leprican delivering worthless tokens to me was more concerned about us than those mummified, worthless bartenders. Taking your lunch break at midnight and eating handfuls of chips like a hoard of Walrus does not help drive the establishment by any means. You staring at me while you eat fishy chips do not pay the bills, your customers do. People, like me, who pay for your quasi drinks and sour (yes, the soup was moldy) food are what drives your business.
The only reason you should ever go here is if you hate yourself, possibly suffering from a crippling meth addiction, perhaps you're A-sexual and you can't sleep, and need somewhere to spend your hours and days of wakeless nights staring at the tv trying to not order another shake weight since your last one broke from gross over useage.
That being said, the basket of sour burgers and tastless garlic french fries crawling down my asophagaus at this moment feels less pleasant than the late night yogurt swallowing I did on the strip the night prior to get the $7.50 it cost.