â 1 Star â A July 4th Dinner Disaster (But Hey, the Fireworks Were Free!)
We came to Two Spear Street on July 4th, dreaming of a festive holiday dinner by the water. You knowâgreat food, chill vibes, fireworks⊠the whole patriotic package. What we got instead was a 2.5-hour wait, stale bread, and a surprise insect wriggling around our plate like it was on vacation. Truly, the American nightmare.
And just when we thought it couldnât get any worse, over strolls a waitress who looked like she borrowed her work permit from her older sibling. She calmly informed usâwith the confidence of someone whoâs never eaten in a restaurant beforeâthat our plate had actually gone to the wrong table first. Oh, of course it did! And those poor folks ate it, obviouslyâbecause they, too, were starving hostages in this foodless funhouse. Bon appĂ©tit, strangers!
When we politely mentioned the bug in the food, she hit us with the classic: âIt was probably just a fly flying by.â Oh, thank goodnessâit was just a fly-by infestation, not a permanent resident. Totally fine! Honestly, I canât wait for the house special next time: pan-seared protein with legs.
Meanwhile, the manager was outside, probably auditioning for Americaâs Got No Talent, belting out âBorn in the USAâ next to a hot dog stand while the inside of the restaurant spiraled into what can only be described as culinary anarchy. Tables were abandoned, servers were confused, and hunger levels were reaching DEFCON 1.
But wait! The real stars of the evening? The âbus boyâ (pretty sure he wandered over from a movie set) who turned out to be the most helpful and competent person in the building. Big applause for him for doing literally everyone elseâs job. The sweet-as-pie waitress who graciously made sure everythingâincluding the wrong food, the bug, and our timeâwas not added to our check. And the smooth-talking waiter they sent over to charm us like we were on a bad reality dating show. Spoiler: didnât work, but A+ for effort and cheekbones.
In the end, the only decent part of the night was the fireworks at Memorial Parkâwhich, unlike the kitchen staff, showed up on time, sparkled, and didnât crawl across our plate.
Would we go back? Only if weâre filming a sequel to Fyre Festival: Riverfront Edition. If youâre craving dinner with a side of chaos, stale carbs, and free-range insects, youâve found your spot.
Otherwise? Save your night, your appetite, and your sanityâand eat literally anywhere else. Preferably where the waitstaff can legally drive and the bugs have to pay cover.
Yours truly, The...
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