Where we did end up left Nate and I silently look at each other with raised eyebrows and faces that said, "What is this place?"
We ended up driving to Noblesville and looked for a place around the town square and found a brewery/bar/restaurant not far from there. We parked and walked over and the first indicator that should have said 'Run!' was as Nate was grabbing the handle of the door and I was looking inside the large room full of empty tables starting to say..."Nate, are they even open? I don't see anyone in there..."
But alas, we had stepped in the door and had been spotted by an incredibly enthusiastic hostess who had no intention of letting one of her few customers of the evening turn around and walk back out. So we began the long journey down the hallway from the front door to our hostess station, which seemed the distance of a football field, with sinking stomachs the whole way.
Our hostess grabbed our menu's, called over her shoulder "Follow me!", and darted off with the speed of kindergartner just let loose for recess. I gave chase just long enough to realize that once we rounded the corner I wasn't going to lose her down another straight hallway along a string of booths. So we could both slow down and take the place in.
The young Tina Fey (as Nate dubbed her) sat us in the second to last booth, gave a cheerful fair-well, and darted back to her post to be sure not to miss the next unsuspecting customers.
Nate ventured off to use the washrooms while I was left with taking in this new and strange place. Our booth happened to be within easy earshot of the conversations in the kitchen and directly out of the booth, across the walkway was the entrance to the bar which had some loud music going. I didn't observe anyone coming or going from this area other than the bartender who liked chatting with his kitchen buddies, and the bus boy in some type of top hat. No one working there had any type of identifying uniform, or name tag; they were all in street clothes (and apparently, accessories of choice if you include the top hat).
They also all appeared to be in their late teens/early twenties. We briefly came up with a theory that maybe this place was some type of college project, but without a university in town we deduced this unlikely. But were left wondering where all the adults were to run this place.
After Nate returned from the washroom, we looked at each other and Nate asked, "Do you smell...." and trailed off.
"Vomit?" I helpfully supplied, as the smell that was drifting in the space was hardly that of roses.
"Well, I was thinking more of the chemical smell of a permanent?" Nate replied.
"I like your idea better," was my response.
Either way. It smelled.
And for some reason we still stayed and ordered.
After ordering a wrap for me and a tenderloin for Nate, we heard one of the street clothed kids bust into the kitchen exclaiming: "Guys!!!" a long pause, while the clatter and chatter in the kitchen subsided, "I think we are actually busy!!" My eyes got big. This was busy? The idea that we had caught them on a good night was a little frightening.
We apprehensively waited for our meals which arrived looking seemingly harmless, but Nate prayed for safety before we ate for good measure, and we dove in. Nate's liked the tenderloin. My wrap was pretty good for the first half, but in the second I got a bite of chicken bone that crunched between my teeth, which almost always ruins the rest of a meal for me and this was no exception.
And at that point I just wanted to pay and get out of there, which we pretty much did.
At the end of the evening we burst out the front door of the restaurant and sucked in fresh, sweet air, so happy to be alive.
So in summary: We will take our friends dining suggestions next time and we will never be recommending that establishment to any of our friends if they ever ask us.
