Chez Woodfin

Oh Dear God, Chez Woodfin has reopened. I made the mistake of visiting last week and the premises was worse than ever. Dog hair was everyone as well as little cat turds. Cat turds or the small deaf kid once again made feces in his pants. Either way the proprietor never shut up and began to fight with the proprietress over the deaf waiter throwing his clothes all over the place while on his break. I’m pretty sure there’s a violation of the child labor laws being committed.
I surely hope the health department closed this terrible place and PETA investigates the sordid peanut butter jelly time committed between the proprietress and her dog.

My most recent visit occurred during the Super Bowl. There was a nasty fishy smell in the area. A blind guy walked by and yelled, «Hello, ladies!»
The server shat his pants, seemed to be deaf, and was unintelligible. The female employee sexually harassed the patrons by showing off things even Satan would be ashamed of. The owner sat in the background and drunkenly laughed and was oblivious.

Well, well, well this was my firat foray into Chez Woodfin. The proprietor, crotchety old man and his wife. Frankly, that woman is a piece of work. I don’t know what kind of establishment allows an employee (a lowly employee at that) to flash her patrons. But I digress, the food was abysmal and the help. A small deaf child was the worst service I have ever dealt with. All he did was say chips (badly I might add). The owner was less than helpful. All he did was sit in a chair and complain. The woman sat there and let the waiter shit his pants, then share it with the patrons. Frankly, I won’t come back unless I have some coupons. Im really, she said this place doesn’t smell like daddy butt. Whatever that means.