What is the sentiment of the following review?
I got dragged here for a work outing by my co-workers, who think very highly of their bar and restaurant choices in general. Like, verging on snotty. That should have been my first red flag. Learning that we would be sitting outside in the dead of the Phoenix summer was the next. Who wants to sit outside sweating their ass off, trying to make chit-chat with the boss' husband? No, thank you. Now, mind you, I am much more of a Bikini girl. PBR in a plastic pitcher is okey dokey dandy. Once in a while, I like to get dressed up and go suck down $12 martinis. That's cool. The Vig is in no-man's-land. A crappy part of town, on the fringes of the ghetto, with pricey drinks and food and a strange see-and-be-seen atmosphere that really belongs in Old Town. It doesn't vibe with the whole having to park my car across the street next to the check cashing place, hoping I don't get a ticket experience. The decor? OK. Nothing to write home about. Again, $12 martinis and heels are fine if the place is smokin. The Vig is not. It's not even really smoldering, despite the too cool for you attitudes of the staff. No, thank you!
Choose from:
(1). negative.
(2). positive.
(1).