Exercising a Groupon, my wife and I gave Whiskey Dick's a try for dinner, and, boy, was I disappointed.  It may be fine as a bikers-themed bar but as a restaurant this establishment did not even make mid-grade.  Leather booths were comfortable on the end of a cavernous opening, with a long snaking bar and some high tables and chairs on one side, and five booths on the other, amidst the din of hard rock music not really helping the ambiance.  And, the meal did not start off well when I observed diners just two booths away openly smoking cigarettes.  I guess we were early casualties of Nevada's new, liberalized tavern smoking law.  Then, when my ordered bowl of French Onion Soup arrived with a bag of oyster crackers, I realized I was in real gustatory trouble.  The broth of the soup and the caramelized onions and Swiss Cheese topping were okay, but the floating croutons were decidedly not.  I had to bite down hard on each to manually soften them myself.\n\nNext came \"Hail Caesar,\" a fairly large Caesar Salad that was topped by thin strips of Parmesan Cheese sprinkled over not very fresh-tasting Romaine lettuce that was way over-shredded, and tossed in a too-zesty creamy Caesar dressing that overpowered the greens.  At least my entree, \"Don't Let Your Meat Loaf,\" was pretty good, with the meat resting atop a large mound of garlic-mashed potatoes, and the entire lot bathed in a tasty light-brown gravy.  The meatloaf itself was densely packed and accented by tiny bits of carrot.  But the french fries I also sampled were too soft.  Our waitress, outfitted in a black Whiskey Dick's tee-shirt, denim shorts, long gym stockings, and black tennis shoes, was friendly and efficient.  As we walked out, two patrons dressed as bikers parked their motorcycles near the entrance, and walked in.  All in all, this was a humble 2-1/2-star experience.