"Upon arrival, you'll face your first challenge: resisting the urge to turn around at the sight of the restaurant's exterior, which can only be described as terrifying. It’s located in a strip mall that looks like it was built in the 1960s and then abandoned in the 1980s. Howie’s is at the far end of a mall filled with at least six vacant storefronts and a gigantic grocery store that seem to forebode impending doom. It’s as if they’re silently warning you that it’s too late for them—but perhaps you still have time… to run!
If you manage to muster the courage to step inside, you’ll find yourself in a charming southern diner, though don't expect a sign or a host to guide you. Instead, you’ll be greeted by the gazes of weary patrons, comfortably clad in various shades of camouflage and plaid, all watching as you awkwardly make your way to the back register to flag down a waitress. Once you do, she’ll tell you to sit wherever you like.
Now, you might wonder about the clientele. Well, just as you can identify a troubled area by the number of gun stores, pawn shops, and liquor outlets, you can spot the less desirable parts of Florida by the abundance of Trump and religious banners. I lost count of those on my way in. Despite our differing views on politics and faith, everyone seemed decent enough.
As for the food? Surprisingly good! I ordered a country-fried steak with grits, scrambled eggs, and white toast, and everything was delicious. The food came on plates that reminded me of the ones used in county jail—durable plastic in a dull tan, perfectly suited to match the faded expressions I noticed on some of the patrons' faces. My wife ordered an omelette, which looked appetizing but didn't quite wow her. Fortunately, no digestive issues to report, but I’d advise steering clear of any loud discussions about abortion or gender reassignment surgeries while you dine!"
