| rev:text
| - Ah, Iguana Mack's. There are so many words that are on the tip of my tongue, but they are far too explicit for a virgin yelper's eyes, so I shall opt for the "sugar-coating" route.
If you are a fellow Chandler resident, you can truly empathize with the fact that there aren't many bars to choose from (atleast, not to my knowledge). Being a closet alcoholic, I want to choose a bar that's atleast within a ten mile radius so I can sober up, and drive home without attracting a cop's attention. (Warning: Do not attempt to try at home.) Occasionally, when Tempe seems miles away, and Scottsdale isn't even an option, I go to Iguana Mack's with my friends.
The first time, I had a joyful experience. The bar was packed, the alcohol was flowing through my bloodstream, the packed, small dance floor seemed appealing, and the liquor impaired my taste in men and dancing partners. However, when I decided to go to Iguana Mack's again, I realized how horribly slow the service is, and how inattentive the bartenders are. I decided that it was endurable, and decided to give Iguana Mack's another shot - I adamantly believe in equality and justice.
Can I say RUDE, RUDE, RUDE? Horrible, horrible service. The food is mediocre, at best. I suppose when you're boozing, you aren't overly particular about your choice in foods. I would have had an alright time if it weren't for the rude servers. Other than that, this place is happening, by Chandler standards...it's densely packed on Thursday nights. However, I'd rather risk a couple more miles and go to Maloney's in Tempe.
|