2195 Watson Boulevard
Warner Robins, GA 31093
Houston County
Phone: (478) 929-9700
Fax: unknownWebsite: no website on fileEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
Reputations Bar & Grill - About Us
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by Benevolus K. on For RR I say four stars, only in that I have a single experience there. My story follows: Sleeping on the train home, my custom always of the evening, my friend Max did stole, with juice of cursed hebenon, and in the porches of my ears did pour the leperous distillment. That, obviously, awoke me. "What say you!" I started. "Leperous distillments are for the gullet and not the porches of one's ears!" Max heartily agreed and humbly apologized. Thus, with the accompanyment and the suggestion of Lady Pennywort, we proceeded to the Ranstead Room. A second, lesser known custom to many, is our tradition to drinking one's supper during midweek. We arrived at the RR shortly after opening, which during summer, was still bright out. After entering, our eyes slowly became accustomed to the dimly lit, speakeasy environment. Our elbow rested on the pillowy bar. Drinks were ordered, and we had the pleasure of watching the bartender at his craft. Recommendations: As with the other posters, the bartender's choice is highly recommended. Our barkeep had mentioned his former profession as barkeep at other establishments was about mass production of drinks, and the bartender's choice allowed his creative juices to flow. I had asked for a bartender's choice similar to a standby of mine, a Manhattan. He came back with the Wicker Park, which flowed like quicksilver through the natural gates and alleys of the body. After two Wicker Parks, my blood was properly thinned, and my mind properly subdued. Price, it is on par with other fine drinking establishments like Franklin and Apo. You receive well prepared, strong leprous distillments for the price. Ambiance: I cannot say what it is like during the later hours. If you want a relaxed style and conversation with the barkeep, you can drink your supper like we did. I agree with Brad P. that it may become rather trendy if it hasn't already, being a Stephen Starr.
by Allix T. on In one evening three incredibly divergent bar crawls collided on the Hong Kong dance floor - and peace, harmony, and pandemonium all raged simultaneously. Maybe it was the full moon, maybe it was the feast day of zombie jesus, whatever it was, the stars aligned so that a bunch of bunny be-decked bachelorettes, blinged out baby mamas (and their baby's mama's mamas) and blithely elevated, bejeweled, bedecked, (and bedazzled) rateclubsers booty shaked, butt checked and bounced (to the rhythm) all night. (Bring it bitches - alliteration, dance offs, I'll do it all).
