Went to Rotolo's; Don't Make that Mistake too.

Okay, so it wasn't _that_ bad. It wasn't worth the fifteen minute trip to Belle Chasse, either, that's for sure. I was accompanied by Falcon, Doppelganger (who scared the women at the table next to us by reading the menu in a very menacing voice, as if he were the announcer at a monster truck rally), Mama's Boy (no report from the loo), and last, and probably least, Scott Baio who was dressed like Scott Baio.

I ordered an appetizer of breadsticks and a calzone with this unfortunate name: "Sweep the Floors," a moniker so unappetizing, I had no choice. It had to be ordered.

And they came out at the same time, which rendered the breadsticks about as useful as a second appendix.

Doppelganger (who had graduated to a sort of Tourette's-like stream of curse words for the benefit of the six year old at the table behind him. "Mommy, what does 'Felching a chicken's anus mean?'") and Mama's Boy both had Blackened Chicken Alfredo sandwiches, which they both described as boring and bland.

Scott Baio loved his Chicken Caesar sandwich. I got a little creeped out when, in the middle of our meal, he named it Joanie and then had to get up and go to the bathroom for a little "Chachi-time."

Falcon was there the whole time, but somehow was also missing. I think it had a lot to do with the virus I gave his computer also acting on the human body.

Still, all in all, if you want to eat something that's an approximation of good, but only if you have to concentrate really, really hard on convincing yourself it's good, then Rotolo's is right up your alley!