Wolfies

Patrons adorn the patio as though there isn’t a worry in the world. Why are they not worried? Did they not insert contacts this afternoon? Have taste buds left the building? Blind? In a coma? Strolled in unconscious on a gurney?

Signs everywhere lead many to believe their questions have already been answered. Crawfish… check. Tuesday special… check. Ribeye… check. Five pounds of crawfish… check. Warning this is the most disgusting restaurant this side of everywhere… no check. This information is not included. Bummer. The arrow should point the other direction so people have a chance to get back into their car, thus avoiding ultimate dirtiness.

Feelings of dirty quickly appeared after first door entry. It just felt… dirty.

Perusing the area seemed like a grand idea while waiting for the hostess to return.

First stop, the menu slash silverware holding box. This particular box of barf  has in its possession tons of dust, electrical tape (?), crumbs, cracks, and scum, just from a bare eye scan. Um, if this is where the hostess travels to pick up the tools I’ll use for food entry, no thanks. PASS.

Double Freaking Wow. Just WOW. Really? I mean, this is out of control nasty. Who is the manager? Where is the owner? What kind of restaurant is this???? One that should be out of business. That’s what kind.

Okay, let’s all take a moment to soak in the scene. Before you is none other than a tray of silver having been run through the dishwasher. In most non nasty restaurants, this silver is out of sight, waiting to be polished, checked by a manager, and then rolled snug as a bug inside a napkin.

Even better, this tray of silver, which is potentially going inside your mouth, is sitting in front of a dirty ashtray and a saliva filled straw.

This picture accurately defines the filth that is Wolfies. Look closely, after skimming past the trash can and ashtrays. On the floor, in front of the vacuum cleaner, is none other than an eating utensil we call… fork. Whew. I have to take a break. THERE IS A FORK ON THE FLOOR WITHIN PERFECT VIEW FROM THE HOST STAND. What makes this worse? THERE IS A BOTTLE OF KETCHUP ON THE FLOOR BEHIND THE FORK ON THE FLOOR.

Someone please get the health inspector on speed dial. If ever the words next level nasty have ever been used, Wolfies is several levels above the highest level of next level nasty. Disgusting. The dirtiest most unacceptable restaurant ever to be witnessed by a non in a coma human. Foul. A dirty rotten mess of zero success. So much funk, you can bring in strippers, giving free lap dances, and I don’t think you can keep any man coming back to this funky hole of horror.

WORST RESTAURANT EVER.

WOLFIES DOESN’T EVEN DESERVE A WOW + OUCH = WOUCH.

NOT ONE STRAWBERRY.

THIS PLACE SHOULD BE EXTINCT.

_____________________________

FIVE: High 5!

FOUR: Please & Thank You

THREE: Yada

TWO: Double Wow

ONE: Wow + Ouch = Wouch

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