Jason believes we should be above reviewing chain and fast food restaurants. I am not above anything. Right next door to Jamba Juice there is (I mean was: luckily for all nearby residents it recently closed its doors) a Skippers Fish abusery. If what they sell can even be called fish.

Instantly upon entering, my delicate aesthetic sense was offended. The decor (and I use that word in the widest of possible contexts) consisted of very poor paint color choices. Even by the standards of the blind. There were sparse pieces of framed… stuff. One was a Skippers brochure circa 1984. Another was a poster of a skier (possibly bought from Shopko 15 years ago) wearing a teal, pink and black snowsuit. The third and final wall decoration was a black and white photograph of a trolley car. Can you go wrong with a classic trolley car photograph? I didn’t think it was possible but Skippers has shown me that even this is no decorating constant. Also a random silk plant collected dust on a random shelf, haphazardly placed on the wall.

We were also the only patrons under 68 years old. I should have turned and run. I knew that whatever I ordered would be an abomination of nature. A frozen dreg of the ocean; thawed, deep fried and smothered in bad sauce like substance. I also got some french fries that smelled like a fish @$$. It is a toss-up as to what was last updated: the clientele, the decor, the fry oil, or the tartar sauce. I think this would be a good gambling game for wealthy people with nothing else to do with their money. “Chauncy, I place 2 Million on the Tar-Tar sauce.”

I think all readers should know my stomach is impervious so I was in no way frightened by what I saw. Give me hot sauce and I will eat moldy cat flesh. Now this so called Skippers was not much better*. I ate it but refused to finish it. Please do not eat at Skippers unless you want your entire being to smell like the Osaka Fish Concern’s bio-waste or you hate yourself. I wouldn’t even send someone I hate to eat there.

*Yes I have eaten old cat flesh with inordinate amounts of hot sauce, but at least it was cooked.

–Joe

If the seedy underbelly has an under butt, this restaurant would be it. It started out poorly. I felt like I walked into a dirtier version of the 80′s. The teal carpet and marble mirrors told me to run, run like a stuck up interior director. But I have eaten some incredible food in seedier places than this so I decided to give it a try.

I of course ordered some phở-ish soup. It wasn’t called phở per-sé but it was described as such in the menu. It was a poor, msg inflicted batch of overcooked noodles.

I don’t wish any malice on the owners of the restaurant, but if they don’t clean up the ambiance and the menu, and probably the kitchen, they will be inflicting it on all who enter.

–Joe