Where I’m from, we don’t have a P.T.’s Old Fashioned Grille, so I can assure you that if I had tasted then what I’ve tasted now, I would have moved South a lot sooner. P.T.’s is a franchise restaurant in North Carolina that seems to cater primarily to college-age students.

When my date and I entered the establishment, I was surprised to find the inside empty other than the employees. This may have been due to the fact that I enjoy supper at the early-bird time of about 5 p.m. It was loud and hectic, but all of it just came from the workers fighting to talk over one another.

We were greeted by a young brunette who had all of us fooled that she actually wanted to be there. With a smile on her face, she answered all of the annoying questions I had and even made a few suggestions. P.T.’s is a more of a do-it-yourself place, where you walk up to the counter and check off what you want on a paper menu – Dub’s Café style. Though the menu was pretty self-explanatory, it left little room to embellish or be creative. A tactful idea on P.T.’s part: the prices were left off of the menu you fill out, making it easier to rack up the money. With this being said though, the establishment was fairly priced for what you get in return. Main entrees range from $5 to $10.

Once we had our drinks, it was time to find a seat. We had many options but decided to sit on the outside deck. The deck consisted of tacky marble-top tables and basic white polypropylene chairs that were packed together so tightly that at one point, after I had received my food, I bumped into a girl at the table beside mine as I took a moment to enjoy my food. Being so tightly woven together, I found it hard to hold a conversation with my date.

When our names were called, I was a little embarrassed at the excitement that came over me. I grabbed my food and was pleased with the brown, greasy mess that was mounded in my plastic basket. I scurried back to my uncomfortable outdoor chair and immediately dug in.

My meal was hot, to the point that I grossly spit out the bite of fry I had just inhaled and reached for my “lemonade.” Now I’m sure most of you, if not all of you, have had lemonade at some point. The tangy but sweet drink that, when executed just right, makes your lips pucker. Believe me when I say that this sad excuse for lemonade had tasted like the sugar-water I put in my hummingbird feeder. There was a hint of lemon, though. A hint that could have easily come from the cup just not being washed well enough after someone had put real lemonade in it.

As for the food, the grilled chicken sandwich, P.T.’s second bestseller, was blackened and tasted a bit like char, but in an enticing way that had you reminiscing all of the times your mom burnt dinner on the grill. The flavor could have been livelier with an added pinch of salt or a tinge more mayonnaise. The bottom bun had become soggy, but I think this could have been easily fixed with getting rid of the suggested grilled onions; they were an unfortunate bust due to their rubber consistency and less-than-delicious caramelization.

The French fries had been seasoned with God-sent manna, and before I was even halfway done with my first order, I was contemplating ordering a second. P.T.’s has an open concept kitchen area, so you can actually watch a potato be put on a machine and Play-Doh pressed out into fries. And, just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I discovered that P.T.’s sold their fry seasoning – what a glorious day!

Listening to my date became even harder because of the sensual moments I was having with this meal. It’s always a bit awkward when your date says they’re full but you’re still packing it away as if the train leaves in an hour. “I should’ve gotten the 4 oz.,” he said, and at that moment, I realized that though P.T.’s Olde Fashioned Grille may not be the best place to take your date, it is the perfect spot to bring your friends who love to eat just as much as you do.