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High Anxiety Dining: The Barn Kitchen & Bar
Williamstown, Massachusetts

Many restaurants inhabit New England. While trying to determine the good from the bad, we rarely consider the dining needs of the stoner. That is, until now. High Anxiety Dining is a food review column for paranoid stoners by paranoid stoners. As fellow burnouts, we know what it’s like to be stressed, broke, and starving. May our experiences guide you to cozy eateries with great food and upbeat vibes.

Ah, fall in New England. The air is crisp, the pumpkins are spiced, and the foliage – my god, the foliage. You know the foliage kicks ass when introverted stoners crawl out of their caves to bask in the ambiance.

Feeling adventurous, I grabbed my 1.5-gram Kushy Punch vape pen and set off for Williamstown. The trip started pleasantly enough. But come nightfall, the good times were nowhere to be found. In their absence, I quickly developed hunger pains, followed by paranoia.

The longer I neglected my appetite, the stronger my delusions became. This conflict led me to The Barn Kitchen & Bar, the closest eatery within walking distance from my location. Before entering, I wanted to gauge the restaurant’s vibe and infer whether it would provoke or allay my wasted state. I crept toward a window and peered within.

Although I had a clear view of the interior, I couldn’t discern the vibe. I blame the dueling combination of rustic and modern furnishing, which gave the space conflicting energies. A quaint display of old wooden tables and chairs inhabited the heart of the restaurant. This section felt lifted from a Cracker Barrel, with family-friendly vibes cranked to eleven. Part of me worried it was too family-friendly. A man of my vices would get sniffed out in seconds.

Contrarily, the perimeter featured hipper amenities, like cushioned seats and sleek granite tables. While observing these chic furnishes and the well-dressed patrons inhabiting them, I couldn’t help but feel inferior. I glanced down at my gauche outfit: Saucony trail shoes, tethered blue jeans, a yellow t-shirt displaying an abstract Homer Simpson meme, a crusty suede jacket, and dark sunglasses. Was I dressed too casually to dine inside of a barn?

Peeping through windows rarely elicits positive feedback. After receiving one too many death stares, I determined my sly investigation was over: It was now time to shit or get off the pot.

I cautiously entered the restaurant with chattering teeth, shifty eyes, and a sweaty brow. Upon locating a preoccupied hostess, I struggled to communicate.

‘H-h-hi,’ I stuttered. ‘T-t-table for one.’

The hostess slowly looked up from her schedule. When our eyes met, she audibly gasped. I couldn’t tell what spooked her more: The dilated pupils or the flop sweat. Thinking back, it was probably a combination of the two.

‘Oh,’ she whispered. ‘I see.’

Aware of my obvious discomfort, the hostess led me to a secluded corner of the restaurant where I could dine peacefully. Just kidding – she banished me to the rustic section, stranded amongst a sea of chatty locals. I never stood a chance.

‘Your server will arrive in five minutes,’ the hostess assured.

‘Why bother?’ I thought. ‘In sixty seconds, I’ll be dead from overstimulation.’

What followed were the longest five minutes of my life. Incredibly loud and overwhelmingly dull conversations bombarded my every direction. When attempting to glance at anything other than my iPhone, my eyes would inadvertently lock with another patron, resulting in an awkward exchange. There were no unoccupied spots to rest my darting gaze – the restaurant was far too packed. I shyly retreated to the barren inbox of my iPhone, where I reminisced over old texts from AT&T and CVS. You think I’m pulling your leg, but those are the only types of messages I receive. I have no friends!

Credit to my server, whose calm demeanor helped soothe my paranoia. Once composed, I ordered a bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries. I also requested a bottle of tap water, which arrived in seconds.

How was the tap? Decent. Water’s a tricky thing to botch. I suppose it could’ve been colder.

After meeting my server, the general vibe of the restaurant gradually revealed itself. From the perspective of my quaint wooden table, I observed a jovial waitstaff interacting with customers on a first-name basis. These exchanges felt playfully antagonistic, like a close group of friends ribbing one another. It gave the place a real townie vibe, which is a giant red flag at High Anxiety Dining. The last thing a paranoid stoner wants is to enter an overtly social establishment crawling with outgoing locals.

The food arrived within twenty minutes, although it felt longer due to the overstimulation. Regarding quality, the french fries were a stoner’s wet dream. Served hot and extra crispy, they were the type of fries you could eat bare, no condiments required. Contrarily, I felt underwhelmed by the bacon cheeseburger. While eating, I desperately searched for savory flavor profiles typically associated with the heart-stopping sandwich. Alas, I couldn’t find any. That’s not to say the burger was lacking ingredients. A colorful collage of locally sourced veggies embodied the sandwich, but none of these elements produced much flavor. Aside from being bland, it was also very messy. My poor napkin was no match for the relentless beef grease. By the end, it lay decimated across the table, destined for incineration.

I harbor mixed feelings for The Barn Kitchen & Bar. Upon finishing my meal, I received a bill for $23.54 – which felt overpriced. The vibe is far too townie for my liking. While the bacon cheeseburger failed to impress, I appreciated the locally sourced ingredients. And those french fries were in a class of their own. Straight up orgasmic.

Despite these merits, I can’t recommend The Barn Kitchen & Bar. The vibe isn’t suitable for paranoid stoners. Outgoing, health-conscious burnouts might fare better – but only if they have deep pockets.

ABOUT THE ARTIST

Torrey Kurtzner is an out-of-work writer and master of self-deprecation. Against the better judgment of his peers, he’s determined to pursue a career within the creative arts, even if it kills him.

Image generated on Magic Studio