108 Columbia Street
West Union, WV 26456
Doddridge County
Phone: (304) 873-3002
Fax: unknownWebsite: no website on fileEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
by Laura W. on Everything about this place is so wrong that it's actually right. I somehow convinced my friends to go here after dinner at La Fonda. I mean, it didn't seem right to be a few blocks away and NOT go here. We walked up to the 'still closed, but up for sale' hotel and lined up to get a picture. Before we knew it, a homeless man jumped into our picture while he was chewing a sandwich. And that's how it all began... As we walked down the stairs, I felt like I was entering the twilight zone. Cover was $3 (it was still early) and as we entered, I was overwhelmed by the smoke. "Ladies" sauntered around the bar- all shapes, sizes and ages. When I was in the bathroom, a 64 year old dancer had a suitcase full of costumes out before deciding on the "vineyard vixen" costume. She is, after all, trying to retire in a couple of years. (That's what she said.) After Blondie crushed a beer can, a guy asked me to crush a beer can. I said, "Do I look like I want to crush a beer can?!" Blondie responded, "It only hurts a little!" But, I knew it was my time to go when the guy's friend yelled, "He said that you're the woman of his dreams!" Like many others before me, my life is now complete.
by Emery Lomascolo on Douchey. And if there's a hierarchy of douches (with "Medicated Tropical Splash Ultra" on one end and "generic saline solution" on the other), this is the vinegar enema. Bouncer looked me up and down and made a point of saying i had the 'wrong shoes'. Since I saw others in sneakers (and brand-emblazoned t-shirts, gaudy sunglasses on their gelled heads) getting waved in, I asked him why. he blinked hard, something sloshed in his head, and he said "your shoes are.... boots. like work boots" (they were not at all). Right. and what was he trying to imply? that I'm a 150 pound Asian day-laborer? I don't know. But they distinctly left the impression there was not a lot I could do to get in, shoes notwithstanding. People who love this place obvously feel that the cab fare necessary to get to a remote warehouse parking lot of adds urban panache to the nightlife experience and have strong opinions about electronic DJs. And clearly I will go to my grave having no idea what it means to have truly lived, and now never will thanks to my choice in footwear. Thank you, Shoes.
by Tad Hemrich on Weaving college basketball into a food review: Duke is perennially ranked #1 at some point and time during the college basketball season. They inevitably lose to a team that they should "normally" beat in the ACC whether it be FSU or Maryland you can guarantee that this will happen. It's as true as the sun setting in the west. The best part of these upsets are the raucous fans chanting "Over-rated! Over-rated! Over-rated!" I felt like one of those chanting fans last night after eating dinner here with other colleagues for our holiday party. This place was packed! Why (I asked myself)? The answer to this question couldn't have been any more obvious - young b&t folk/Wall Street types decide to impress other Staten Island/Long Island wenches by taking them to a restaurant that must be cool with a name like STK. "Dude, it's like steak without vowels, this place has to be awesome and it's in the meatpacking district...it's a sure thing like your mom is after a drink and a roofie." This is a third tier steakhouse surrounded by landmarks like The Old Homestead. STK shouldn't even be mentioned in the same sentence. It would be like comparing Harold Minor ("Baby Jordan") to Michael Jordan (His Airness), which is to say it would never happen. The quality of food here is not very good at all, but they seem to have no problem charging an arm and a leg for mediocrity. I was in my normal drinking haze (read work function), when waiters began the food barrage. They started walking around with appetizers including sliders and fries, shrimp tempura, vegetarian skewers, and beef on a stick. Nothing noteworthy here all of the appetizers were bland and lacked creativity. Three drinks later we sat and ordered dinner from the abbreviated menu. I ordered shrimp cocktail, filet mignon (medium), and the chocolate volcano cake. The shrimp cocktail was completely lacking any taste, granted they were the jumbo shrimp, but others like the Palm and Old Homestead serve bigger shrimp that are deliciously sweet. A good steak can truly stand on its own sans sauce, however this filet required their silly blue cheese to dress it up and mask the true quality (or lack thereof) of the meat. The desert was fairly decent but again lacked creativity, however the cake was hot, which was positive. Why two stars then? 1 star: because I didn't have to pay the bill. + 1 star: some of you b&t girls are smoking hot eye candy and make me want to take back all of the offensive dribble that I've said about you in the past (saw my first fake boob in NYC up close and personal here) -------------------------------------------------- -------- 2 stars You won't catch me here on my own free will.
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