I watch too much Gordon Ramsay.

I had a good week – picked up a new major client that may be a long-term gig. The wife and I wanted to celebrate so we went to the local Johnny Rockets – boy, that was a mistake.

Yeah, this is the actual place.

Should have known better.

Long story short: food was bad, decor was terrible. The only good thing about it was the service; we had a wonderful waitress named Johanna that was super sweet and very friendly. Ooh’d and aah’d over our little girl, told us about her four month old at home. I tipped her well but we won’t be going back any time soon.

I’d seen the Johnny Rockets before, as it’s right on Route 9, the main drag that runs between Lake George and Queensbury. It’s right across the street from Six Flags Great Escape and it’s actually connected to the Splashwater Kingdom water park, and I’d never been, so the wife and I thought it would be a nice treat to commemorate a good week.

I knew we were in for a less-than-stellar experience when we walked in. If you’ve never been to a Johnny Rockets before they’re all done up like a diner from the 1950’s, complete with faux-vintage posters and chrome jukeboxes. This one had tried to adopt that same aesthetic, and it was all white tile and mid-century modern architecture in there, but for some reason it just seemed dingy and run-down.

Things didn’t get much better when the food came out. We ordered a plate of onion rings as an appetizer, and they were terrible. They tasted like they had hit the fryer while the oil was still heating up and had absorbed it instead of being fried by it, giving them a soggy feel. Something tells me they had been sitting under the salamander for a while though because they were both soggy and stale at the same time.

Ugh, my colon.

These people are happy because they’re not eating at Johnny Rockets.

Luckily we didn’t have to wait long, as our entrées came out before we were even done with our onion rings. In fact, they came out suspiciously soon – as if they had been sitting in the back just waiting to be assembled like they do at fast food shitholes like McDonald’s. I don’t know why – it’s not like the place was busy – but whatever the reason our burgers were under-seasoned and bland.

In the end, the wife and I waddled out of there feeling bloated and indifferent about the whole experience. Poor Johanna did her best to give us a pleasant experience; it’s not her fault the kitchen is run by mongoloids and the décor hasn’t been cleaned since the building was erected. Johanna, if you’re reading this: you’re so much better than that place. I hope you find a better restaurant to work at – one that doesn’t make you sing and dance every time some kid comes in on their birthday.

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