When my parents were separating (well, they still are, except this time all their talking is done through lawyers instead of airborne furniture), my father and I used to come here a lot. \n\nNot by choice, mind you. My brothers always had their birthdays at Red Lobster, and so it would have just reminded my dad of all the family time we had, and he'd go crazy again. The same thing happens whenever he hears Christmas music or drives by Cabella's. I wish I was making this up. I really do.\n\nThe food at McGrath's is pretty mediocre even without my association of shrimp scampi with watching my dad cry and mumble about murdering all of us when we would least expect it that my poor poor brain has developed.\n\nThe fish is sparse and overpriced, even for a seafood restaurant in a land-locked state. I mean, I might not be a fisherman or anything, but I've seen some on the discovery channel, and salmon are usually bigger than that. \n\nAnd that isn't catfish. I don't care what your \"chef\" back there says, it's not. It might be someone's cat, but it is definitely not catfish.\n\nIf Fishermen actually had to subsist on that flavorless tomato puree you call \"fishermen's stew\" like you claimed they did, there'd be no fishermen. Nor would there be any whalers. And Bob Marley would have never found a backup band.\n\nI'm just grateful that my dad ruined this place for me, and not, you know, a real fish house. \n\nI would have never recovered.
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