The diligent server who dutifully recites a list of half a dozen specials, complete with lengthy, effusive menu-ese descriptions of the contents and preparation of each one, so that at the end of the list, if you have not been making notes, you cannot recall what each dish has what or even what each one is called.

The music - whatever you dislike most, pick your poison - skips.

The over 50 Girlz Jus' Wanna Have Fun club at the next table who seem to have bathed in Jean Nate'.

All of your favorite appetizers are on the menu. Every entrée is cooked to perfection. The bread never runs out. The wine is complementary. The server takes your dessert order at the beginning of the meal and each dessert is prepared-to-order, delivered to your table freshly-made. The wait staff is salaried, and well-paid, and there is a note prominently displayed on the menu that says, “Tipping Not Allowed.” Every table is situated so as to be private. The rocks in the restroom sink are finely-polished jade.

Oh, and every diner is wearing a winter parka because it is, you know, a cold day in Hell.

:-)

Point to Bucky!

Classic Bucky! That is why you were missed!

It doesn't matter what you order or how you order it - they don't have that today.

Overheard at the next table: "I'm Elizabeth Large, and I'm hear to destroy you."

The menu: Chilean sea bass, foie gras, and veal. You have to wade through a sea of protesting hippies to get inside.

CHILDREN put me in restaurant hell. I'm punished for not having children by being seated next to children who are ignored by their parents. We had food flung at us at Dogwood and a child stuck his fingers in our food at Lebanese Taverna.

Two words: salad bar.

st. - May I add two words to your two? "No Sneezeguard".

See, cuz it would be hell because she said "hear" instead of "here." Hellacious, right?

@ Trix: See, I don't prefer to even make a distinction. If a concept requires something called a "sneezeguard" to make it palatable, it probably isn't a good idea to begin with.

an ambivalent greaseball hipster waitstaff (complete with snarky t-shirts) that insists it's your fault when your order gets screwed up.

A menu written entirely in boldface.

Laura Lee, can we make it italicized as well, just for good measure?

Sorry sean, I couldn't quite hear you.

you guys are a hoot!

unbelievaboh, is it your mission to boldly go where no man has gone before?

my bold, italics and caps functions are malfunctioning. unfortunately, i can't seem to get this "talk in the third person" function to operate properly.

Been there, done that.

You go to a restaurant during a Ravens play off game. You sink into your chair and smugly look around at all the empty tables. But wait....where is your waiter? Why is it taking an hour to get your food? OH NOOO...all the staff is in the kitchen watching the game along with the cook.

tweety cat makes a great point-- being at a restaurant and missing a ravens playoff game would be complete hell.

st. - Indeed!

1. The restaurant's website uses Flash-heavy graphics that lock up your computer and flummox your pda.

2. There's no parking, so you park on the street. While in the restaurant, your car gets broken into. Then ticketed. Then towed.

3. You're with a party of 8. Seven of you arrive on time. The eighth is looking for parking (see 2 above), and the host won't seat you until "the whole party arrives."

4. The restaurant has nightly specials, but (a) none of the prices are posted and (b) all of the prices are three times the prices of regular menu items.

I could go on, but this is depressing.

I do believe that unbelievaboh intentionally missed my point!

dining with oprah, rosie o'donnell, jerry springer and oj simpson would be hellish. oprah might pick up the tab but she may or may not be pissing off the greaseball hipster waitstaff by requesting dressing on the side.

Instead of "spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans and spam" the menu consists of "PEEPS, PEEPS, PEEPS, PEEPS, PEEPS, BACONAISE AND PEEPS"

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, nacho powder encrusted, turkey bacon wrapped peep-kabobs in a strawberry MD 20/20 reduction [drool]

You have a 7:30 PM reservation. The hostess says that they're running just a few minutes behind schedule and suggests you have a drink at the bar. She hands you an electronic gizmo that looks like it came from the star ship Enterprise. When your table is ready, it will buzz, ring, vibrate, flash, beep or catterwaul. After a half hour, you return to the desk and ask when your table will be ready. "We called you twenty minutes ago," says the hostess imperiously. "You didn't respond. Sorry but I'm afraid I had to release your table." She sends you back to the bar with a promise to call you when she can. How, you ask, can she call you when the dumb doohickey she gave you is obviously dead? She ignores you, turning to smile at new arrivals. Your face darkens. Your wife pleads with you not to make a scene. That starts a row that continues as you storm out of the restaurant, drive home and sit silently munching left-over meat loaf.

All the tables are empty, but the hostess still insists on seating you next to the restrooms and the service station.

The only things they aren't out of are soylent green and bitter melon. The sound track is all surfer music and 50's doo wop. Every table has screaming babies who's older siblings are staging the Battle fo Maldon with the bread basket while their parents text each other across the table. The waiter has not paid attention to personal hygiene since 7th grade, but is trying to get the hostess into bed, preferably on top of the bar.

The only coffee is Sanka.

being a vegetarian at the buckhorn exchange in denver, co. note the extensive taxidermy collection on the walls that includes a two headed calf.

http://www.buckhorn.com/

the problem with this list idea is that any "hell" situation would warrant leaving or not going in the first place.

where's the restaurant heaven list with specials recited concisely with prices, stereotype breaking greaseball hipster waitstaff, mouthwatering food, rock bottom steal-of-a-deal entrees and adequate server touching?

It's not a restaurant hell list. It's restaurants in hell. The difference is that you can't leave for eternity, and there are no better options. :-) EL

Are we talking about the Golden West again?

Bonus point to Carol in Hampden!

The waiter insists on you using his name, which he has not told you.

The waiter tells you his name. You think it is Dwayne. Later you find out that what he really said was "My name is, duh, Wayne."

CWB had it right...the worst possible restaurant is the one that contains children. If I'm paying $20 for a plate of pasta, I am NOT going Screaming Baby class...

Laughed out loud at my computer, RIE -- thanks!

The restaurants are out of alcohol -- every kind. The only drink options are: Shirley Temples, buttermilk, Ovaltine and Slim Fast.

The Buckhorn in CO is a little creepy with the stuffed animals watching, but the food is spectacular!

Especially the rattlesnake. Woohoo!

You know, there actually is a Hell, Michigan (about an hour east of Detroit).

There are two eateries, the Dam Site Inn and Screams ice cream parlor. Dam Site is a generic rural biker restaurant, while Screams is simply a generic ice cream shop.

So I guess the food in Hell would be average rural road stop food. Because, well, it is.

Derek, I used to camp near Hell, Michigan. It is around 2 hours west of Detroit. Never ate there, though.

Every year, the local "news" outlets announce Hell freezing over.

The only way a steak will be served is "burnt beyond recognition".....it is hell after all.