How I wound up here is a mystery. Well, less mystery, and more I’m drunk and someone was going there. Red Robin you are a very strange place.
It felt like midnight, but it might have actually been more like 7pm. The place was deserted except for a couple of people. It’s attached to our Westfield mall, which generally I try to avoid like the plague. I got some burger, and a bunch of beer. The fries were steak fries, and I like steak fries. They had an incredible amount of seasoning on them, though that may have been my fault. There is some sort of seasoning salt they have labeled and put out on the table. We also got some sort of oddly shaped onion ring thing. I buried just about everything I ate there in ranch. Life was good.
Really my only gripe is that the fries are supposed to be endless, but they took forever to get the second batch out. Then apparently they gave them to some other table. Fuckers.
So there you have it. Go to Red Robin hopped up on margaritas, and beer. Get more beer, and forget that you’r sitting next to a man in a suit. I’ve got a shirt with a turkey on it. Victory!
