Missoula, United States
900 S Higgins Ave
N/A
+1 4067282402
Pizza had no taste whatsoever. The cat that stole rancid chicken from the trash wouldn't even eat it. Chicken fingers were disturbing visually and completely void of flavor. The cat wouldn't eat those either. What the hell am I going to feed the cat now? He is dying help
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I walked in and was instantly surrounded by hundreds of depressed starving teenagers begging me for food and money. It was dark besides the flickering flourecent lights. I heard faint screaming in the distance. I asked for the menu and was told to "be quiet and take my seat." Completely disrespectful. never going there again
The souffle was a bit too crispy for my liking, overall an alright restaurant experience.
horrible service, the only two items sold here seem to be storebought doughnuts and pathetic cheeseburgers. there is no waiting service, and the women who you get your food from seem underpaid and generally unenthusiastic. the local crowd attracted to this restaurant are almost exclusively either teenagers or adults above age 30, and there is a variation of cultures exhibited by the population, anywhere from overachiever granolas to good for nothing hick dirtbags. one of the worst, and most psychologically damaging restaurants I've ever had the displeasure of experiencing.
Love the theater, but I prefer my Spartans!
Waiter was clueless, I asked for a filet mignon and they couldn't deliver. I mean what establishment can't even do that? Simply said it was a disgrace.
As soon as I walked in there was an overpowering smell of gym socks, which was strange for a restaurant. The service was extremely slow and my waiter was very rude and refused to bring me garlic bread. I was also not allowed to bring my dog in, definitely NOT a family friendly eating establishment.
I lie awake in my cruel chair in the chilly classroom, seemingly made by cruel clowns who enjoy watching the cruel suffering of children. Sweat flows in angry rivers from my body, pooling under me and soaking the preposterous bed of nails and gravel that serves as a seat. A clammy dread seizes me as I turn my twitchy eyes towards the uncaring clock. Am I truly in control of anything? Certainly not the time. The insignificance of it all swells down upon me, like a jellyfish of nothing. The machines are in control, they tell us the time, they tell us what Google is. They have won. Humanity has lost the chess game against itself. We, are, not, special. I am mentally and physically vanquished by the effort of checking the time, and so I retire to my cave of solitude, and watch the Cake Boss on Netflix. I keep hoping that they make a cake of insignificance, but they do not. And so I sleep, until I must yet again rise and face the primal terror of the hellstorm the foolish bureaucracy calls public school. Besides all that I guess it's pretty okay. I like the elevators.
Deli
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