"The place wasn’t particularly crowded, apart from an obnoxious patron dropping f-bombs after a few beers. That didn’t bother me too much; I was mainly hoping to connect with someone related to the namesake of this establishment or, at the very least, find a way to justify my long journey. As for the food, I asked the bartender what the locals recommend, and she mentioned that the chicken tenders were great. Typically, when I order tenders at other restaurants, they focus on being tender. Not here. These were over-battered and over-fried, with a batter-to-chicken ratio of 2:1. I’m not joking.
At some point, a replacement bartender came in. I told her my "Roch story" and inquired again about the merchandise. She showed no interest whatsoever, saying she would ask about the shirts, but didn’t seem to know if they sold anything at all. I asked, "Now?" and she replied, "No, come back and I’ll check." To me, that felt like a polite way of saying, "I can’t help you now, so come back and maybe someone else—if they even care—will." But I’m not coming back. I’ve been promoting this place on social media for over two years, even announcing my trip to visit for months and posting on their page. There's no way any future visit could be better than this one. Sure, it might be more lively at night with a live guitarist on the deck and locals enjoying their drinks, but clearly, the food is just an afterthought.
If you're going to go to the trouble of being open for business, then be open and present. Just don’t be like this."
