Dave & Buster’s

Horrified is the only word to describe all inner feelings the second my husband said, “We are having lunch at Dave & Buster’s.” All I’m saying is there’s maximum fear attached to lunching at an arcade— always. Ten thousand apologies to arcade restaurant lovers everywhere. It’s just not something I’d willingly ever do on purpose. Upon marrying my husband last year, I received two brand new daughters. One daughter turned nine years old on Saturday, so off we went to Dave & Buster’s.

Fear happily turned into a semi-moment of glee as our server marched over to take our drink order within seconds of being seated. I incorrectly assumed the food and service were going to hurt my feelings, which isn’t fair. If I’m ever going to be a real deal food writer, prejudgment is a deal breaker. It’s just not right. Everyone was nice from start to finish: server, water guy, food runner, hostess, busser, manager. Six people ate without one complaint. My father-in-law had chicken and waffles. The waffles appeared dry and the chicken’s appearance came close to painful. Luckily, our server returned with syrup to repress all waffle woes.

I ordered the melon citrus shrimp skewers with veggies. Remember, the level of like is that of acceptable arcade restaurant food. With this mentality being the only mentality available, um, the melon citrus shrimp skewer dish would have to be considered some sort of menu win. The food isn’t terrible! Raise the roof. It’s nice to know an arcade restaurant doesn’t have to hurt.