I have driven by this place a hundred times and I had always thought that it was closed down? Wishful thinking. When I walked in it wasn't any better. The standard menu's were all greasy and the posters with pictures of the food on them were so faided that you couldn't tell what the price was? When Dirty Gurt asked for my order, I looked at the gyros on the spit and it looked like a plastic display. It wasn't even on? When moon beam dropped the fries, I expected to hear the snap crackle pop of the oil. No such luck. And as I was waiting for my food I took a gander at the joint and wondered if Hobart has a health inspector? I tried not to touch anything. Because if the back of the house was that ronchy, the front couldn't have been any more important. Thinking that this has got to be a roach coach, I looked under the building on my way out for a set of wheels. No on that front also. This takes the Crown for Dump-O-Rama Flandama. I look a picture of the place on my way out of the lot. I will screw it into my dashboard as a reminder. Hell will come soon enough!
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