Restaurant Review: Cow Patty's Homestyle Steam-it-Teria

I'm afraid Jacques Wool went off the rails with this recommendation. As a Food Snob, I believed--once--his taste to be impeccable. But in this case I'm afraid that his Restaurant Snooper-Scope is way off. And this saddens. Can the transcendentally snooty Jacques Wool have sent me on some kind of culinary snipe hunt? I put on my snazziest suit tonight and made my way through the fluorescent green glow on Snippety Street to the Steam-it-Teria. Let me state that I was not impressed with the exterior of the restaurant. It looked just like the outside of some weird psychiatric clinic. Not the kind of place I would normally dine. A sneaky pete lay in the gutter nearby. I can only describe the decor inside the place as bizarre. A color television in the corner was blaring some weird movie musical from the late 1960's. The atmosphere of the place was more like a junk shop than a place for fine dining. However, at the time I still believed that Jacques Wool could make no mistakes, and so I endured the decor and stood by the hostess' lectern (I have no other word for it). Screwed into the front of the lectern, gold cursive letters made of some metal read: "We Must Wait to be Seated." The hostess said, "Just one?" Have you ever noticed that hostesses always say "just one"? I think the "what a loser" subtext in the word "just" is clear as crystal. The hostess brought me to my card table and I waited. Did people ever actually play cards at card tables? It seems that people play cards at dining tables. And eat at card tables. At least that's always been my impression. Soon, the waitron appeared. "Here's the menu," he said, "and I can give you a sneak preview--" If you know me at all, you know how enraged I was at that cute little turn of phrase. Sneak preview. "--of our specials." He went on to tell me about the "astounding Sneezeweed Salad" which I foolishly went ahead and ordered. The waitron brought me a drink called The Snooze in a snifter. When it was time for my salad, he stood at my side and chopped it with a snickersnee. Jacques Wool, when you recommended this place to me, were you just being jocular? Zero Parsley Sprigs.