Poet's spouse: Hey Gillhoughly! I was taking the wife out to dinner--what have you heard about that new restaurant Meiner-Clop-Mirs?"
Gillhoughly: I ate there. Once. Once was enough. I got food poisoning so bad I wound up in the hospital and got a whopping huge bill. I was out of work for months from complications. I tried to sue, but the owners told me to piss off, that I was lucky they even let me in the door and I should be grateful they bothered to feed me, and I couldn't prove that it was their food that nearly killed me. THEN they demanded I apologize to them and if I didn't shut up and leave I'd hear from their lawyer!
I've complained to the health department, to the Better Business Bureau, and to the attorney general. I've found tons of other complaints about the food in the papers and online and there's not a truck driver or cop who will go within a mile of the place. It's a garbage dump, stay away if you want to live!
Poet's Spouse: Well that's too bad, but the wife
really wants to try them and she knows more about food than I do. Their website says lots of folk eat there and are happy
and the page says that no one will get food poisoning! That means they're okay, right?
Hey, where are you going with that industrial size box of Ex-Lax and bottle of ipecac?
Gillhoughly: Thought I'd force feed 'em to your wife. She'll have the same results as she'd get from dining there and save you the expense of going out. You'll both thank me in the morning.
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