Would you like smoke with that?


On Saturday Betsy, Vicki, Deborah and I tried out one of Savannah's favorite locals' restaurants, Mary's Steakhouse, down on deepest darkest Abercorn. If you enjoy poor service, mediocre food, and stuff floating in your water, have we got the place for you. Oh, and bring your platinum card, because this shit ain't cheap, my friend.

The pre-dinner experience. Vicki was late, big surprise. No worries, though, because we had to sit for at least an hour in a cramped vestibule, which slowly but surely filled up with smoke emanating from the yuppie spawn loitering outside. Several groups seemed to walk right in, and get a table. Go figure.

Finally, a table. We escape from the hazy lobby to our non-smoking table. But wait, what's that wafting from two feet away, through that big ass cutout in the wall? It seems to be, yes, yes it's ... smoke. Lovely. We also had some issues with glassware. First, my beer mug comes fresh from the freezer with a big smear of lipstick. And it's not even my color! My water glass has some greenery floating in it. Vicki's glass defies physics, with a crack that spirals 350 degrees around it without actually breaking.

The food? Everyone seemed to think it was OK. I supped on the tasty, tender flesh of a cute baby cow. This one must have got out of the barn once or twice, as I've had better.

The only redeeming quality of the experience was the chocolate covered ice cream on a stick, served over dry ice. A good attempt to make you forget how much you've just paid for the frustration.