Brunch at Whitlow's on Wilson

In an effort to expand the influence of platinumdom in our local community Kaylin and I have started what we hope to be a long standing tradition in the greater platinum community: the process by which we hold others up to metaphorical standards that they don't know about. Sounds pretentious, because it is. Look we're just keeping it... well, you know.

So we hit up brunch at Whitlow's and it was sweet.

Kaylin Wainwright's take:
Ambience: Gold. We were seated outside so that made all the difference in the world. The interior is dingy and perfect for their late night cover bands, but for brunch I was happy we had the opportunity of sunshine. In regards to the other patrons: there were hung-over, slovenly types (so Lincoln fit in) and cute yuppies (so I fit in).
Service: Platinum. The hostess did lead Lincoln astray with her assertion that the biscuits and gravy were rated a 9, but she was friendly and prompt. Likewise the server was nice without being annoying, prompt without rushing us, and attractive without being slutty.
Food: Silver. I ordered the eggs florentine which was good, but failed to rock my face off. The homefries were quite good, however. Lincoln was disappointed with his biscuits and gravy, in part because the hostess was suggestive about their platinum potential. He noted that they needed more salt and pepper. I pointed to the salt and pepper on the table. Also, the bacon was overcooked. The mimosas were not platinum, but I would be interested to try their bloody marys.
Company: Aluminum. Just kidding, Lincoln, the company was platinum.
Overall brunch at Whitlow's is not platinum, but I'd be willing to try it again (particularly because of affordability) and see if their other dishes are better.

Lincoln McLain's take:

Prologue:
After not eating much and spending most of the morning propped up in bed watching football I got the delightful ring from one do-gooder on her way back from church. "Wanna get brunch."
I respond with "affirmative" and slip into my robo-trousers before performing morning-bear-yawn-calisthenics. A morning ritual of sorts ever man does that gets seldom mentioned in today’s biased media.
We walk together to Food St. (i.e. Wilson) and begin the long menu shopping process. Being of the poor persuasion I find it easier to look like I am a snob who is discussed with the content of the menu rather than the prices presented. This doesn't ever get far though as my stomach reminds me that it is on the boarder of cannibalism, less it gets satisfied soon.
Whitlow's was the first we saw so Whitlow's was where we ate.

Durelogue: (just made that word up)
Said waitress did say the biscuits and gravy was a 9. and those biscuits and gravy were no such 9!!! With out deceptive comment I would give them a 7. They did separate out the gravy from the biscuits, so you could pour the gravy over the biscuits (G.D. I am getting pretty hungry right about now). This sounds nice but it really didn't have the greatest effect. I am more of a soaked in gravy kind of guy. That's really where I see myself in life. Deceptive comment included I give them a 6.51.
Secondarily, said bacon was too crispy. This usually isn't a problem less the fact that when it is poor quality bacon to begin with it looses all it's pizzazz after being over cooked. The bacon was a disappointment.
Needless to say I kept my composure and managed to pull a buzz out of the mimosa, as was pointed out to me by my faithful companion. Cheers!
Service was nice and I did like eating outside.

Epilogue:
All and all, I give Whitlow's a sub-platinum rating. Though, I do not appose the idea of eating there again. Platinum is big. It's not easy to get. Come on Whitlow's, wow me!