I really hope that Green Café doesn’t bar me from entering the restaurant after today, but hey, stakes are high in the Complaint Department. Today’s column contains a truth that many of us know but dare not admit aloud: Green Café actually kind of sucks.

An establishment that would rank from mediocre to slightly gross in New York City as a typical food bar is all the rage here. Maybe it’s the air of sophistication oozing out of sandwiches nicknamed the Montecristo and the Beef Park Ave. Or maybe it’s because they sell aloe water for $4. Or maybe it’s the plasma screens in the restrooms.

Hello, recession? Are you still there? Because someone should probably tell Green Café.

Whoever thought we needed 24 hours worth of Green is either crazy or a sadist. Seriously, are you trying to ruin my life? The advertising team seems to believe “the Green Cafe will be open 24 hours, breathing new life into the neighborhood for the after-hours crowd.” To that, I say, “screw you.”

I’m pretty sure that anyone else who has ever compiled $12 worth of buffet goodies after Johnny O’s would agree. This shrine to indistinguishably average food items is not only costly but potentially hazardous.

A serious concern of mine is just how long the food sits out each day, when the day never ends at Green Café. In fact, a certain Tompkins County Health Department routine facility inspection cited critical violations, which were corrected (thank God!) upon re-inspection.

Imagine my surprise to realize that those mayonnaise-y globs of seafood salad might be potentially dangerous after that 23rd hour? That an entire red snapper waiting at the end of a 32-foot buffet might not be the best idea? Who’da thunk it!

The real issue here is what prompted Green Café to obtain a liquor license, and why on earth they’ve chosen to attempt a nightclub behind the Korean Pork Bulgogi. Who is the target audience, I ask? No, seriously. Unless vodka tonics, day-old sandwiches and cheesy dance music are your idea of a good time, I simply cannot (and will not) comprehend the allure of getting drunk at Green Café.

So long as I can maintain some level of self-respect (it’s senior year here — don’t hold me to that), I will refuse to shoot tequila amidst vats of avocado salad and sesame chicken. Between the projector screen and the mood lighting, I’m fairly sure the ridiculousness of the concept speaks for itself.

But let’s just say, hypothetically, that one has chosen to get a bite when the drinking dies down, or at any other point in Green Café’s 168-hour week. What you will find is that the things that look most appealing at the buffet bar are actually pretty nasty. The macaroni and cheese is not nearly as cheesy and delicious as it looks, and the tempura sushi is a major letdown. After all, do you know how hard it is to preserve that stuff ... all day, every day? No wonder it tastes like ass.

Not only does the food taste like unseasoned garbage, but it’s expensive as hell. But, alas! Customer appreciation rates have decreased the buffet cost per pound by a whole dollar. Well, golly gee, Green Café, thanks a lot.

Despite the price cuts, whether you go for the salad bar, the teriyaki or the pre-packaged sushi (and its God awful spicy mayo), prepare yourself to shell out between $10 and $15 at any given meal.

As an endnote, I’d like to make it clear that you should not be shocked to find me at Green Café in the future — during meal times, that is. Being that I live about 30 paces from the front door and given the fact that they can’t screw up my salads too significantly (apart from an inexplicably spicy protein selection), I’ll probably pick up a snack or two from time to time out of sheer laziness.

What I will not be doing is getting my booze on at Club Green, nor should any of you. Then again, if I am forbidden from entering upon publication of this article, well, I guess I’ll at least be saving myself the drinking money.