Nate Knows Nada

We went out for dinner last night, to a local pub named Bukowski’s that
I had heard good things about.  It was so dreadful that I posted
this review to several art and entertainment sites.

Miserable, miserable food.  I’ve been to a lot of pubs, and
this one was the worst.  I had the “Buk” sandwich — dry turkey,
inoffensively bland cheese, Wonder-quality bread, and french fries (*in
the sandwich*).  The burger was only average.  And although
the beer selection was good, the price was about a buck higher than
other local places; the beer did have about an inch of head, and in
some countries, that much head is against the law.  Combined with
the noise — music as loud as a rock concert, but I didn’t enjoy
myself–I would have preferred to stay home and have Cheerios for
dinner.

Service was so-so.  We had three different servers in our
hour there. They weren’t bad, but not exactly attentive, either. 
it took a while to get anything.

You can get much better than this for the same money.

I didn’t mention that there’s a double irony in a generic-upscale,
catering-to-the-wrong-PBR-crowd (sorry, Andrew, but I think you would
have been offended by $4-5 cans and bottles of PBR, Ballantine, and
Lone Star) naming itself after a man who spent his life in dive bars
and loathing the clientele of his namesake pub.