NOBODY GOES THERE ANYMORE.
There are risks associated with going to The West End. These include (1) not being seen by anyone important and (2) bum-rape™. I really can't tell you which is worse, but both are unacceptable risks. Since I've been such a risk-taker these days past, I figured I'd make another poor decision.
We went to Sonny Bryan's Smokehouse. I have no fucking idea how this place is still open.
When we walked in, there was one "patron" in the place and I'm pretty sure he was (1) homeless and (2) had just dropped a deuce next to the soda fountain machine. After I threw up a little in my mouth, I went to place my order. The woman behind the counter looked so excited that another fucking human being walked into the place, I think she may have also partook in the rampant deuce-dropping.
Of course, I couldn't get a proper meal because a multiple meat plate would have kicked it above $12.50. What do I end up with? Some fucking kid's shit. I could not have many meats, only one meat. Disappointing.
Sonny Bryan's isn't bad barbeque, but it's not the best. Of course, the idiots that populate this city voted it "best barbeque" in the most recent issue of D Magazine, a publication that has helped cultivate Dallas cuisine by filtering the gutter trash from the truly exceptional.
Of course, I'm talking about the editors, not the readers. They think people still go to The West End. Nobody goes there anymore.
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