You suck. Seriously.
No more pussy footing around it. You're just not really all that great. Yeah, I know, I eat your food frequently because you're the only restaurant open in downtown Tucson at ungodly hours, but I'm through pretending that I like it. Really, the only reason most people eat at the Grill is for the tater tots, something I can handle quite ably myself with a bag of Ore-Ida and an oven.
Ohh, but then I would miss out on the vaunted atmosphere, a.k.a. the deafening noise from the Red Room next door (technically part of the Grill itself) and the snooty tattooed waiters who are more interested in talking to their friends than checking on my damn order.
Let me further note that of all the times I've had beers at the Red Room, they've all been shit. Maybe I just suck at picking good beers, because I tend to go by novelty names and oddball countries, but I'm inclined to blame you. Word to the wise, dear reader: Croatian brewery workers secretly pee in their beer.
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