Burger King

A tragedy in three acts with two stars awarded because at least the food is prepared correctly:
ACT I:
[Enter, stage left] Lo, what is this? A Freestyle Coke machine, filled with delicious syrups and plentiful sodas, beaconing me! What soft, what light through yonder Coke machine shines! It is the east, and caffeine-​free Diet Coke is the sun.
Oh, what the fuck, it’s out of caffeine-​free Diet Coke? For 6 days in a row?
ACT II:
[Approach counter] I wish to order some food that is terrible for me and receive it slowly, sir. Your response should be to poke my order on your touch-​screen and be resigned to the fate of this terrible economy that has forced us to work for pennies on the dollar. Nay, sir, you should not lean across the counter, stroke my face, and tell me that my piercings make me beautiful. Nay, sir, you should not also indicate your interest in receiving the gifts of oral pleasure upon your lance.
Such foul things should not be uttered without invitation of the «consenting partner sort.» Ordering a Big Cheese Fatso Double with extra pickles doth not consent make.
ACT III:
[Again approach counter] Madame, I should like some food. A very small portion shall be mine, with these few dollars, please. I should also like to wait for 25 minutes as you prepare my two mites one at a time in the most laborious way possible, please. I should intend you make me late for my own desperate job while I watch the 6 employees on duty behind the counter rehash their own gossip.
EPILOGUE:
Accessibility notes: doors open out. No Braille menu or signage. Low counters and tables. Drive-​through available.

Only came here for their «10 chicken nuggets for $ 1.50» special as we were craving chicken nuggets. They were surprising good for what we paid.
We actually got 10 pieces (McDonald’s usually miscounts and I only receive 9). We drove through so can’t comment on the establishment itself but our nuggets were ready basically as soon as we stopped at the window. The only negative that I can think to bring up is some nuggets were thinner than the others but really, for $ 1.50, that is very minor.
Overall, I’m happy with it!

Employees handle food wearing no gloves fries were cold and order taker was unfriendly…

If you’re doing drive thru skip this BK.
I have kids and this BK is on the drive home from work so used to stop here often.
Thing is their food is not fast. Every time we’ve ordered anything that’s not a drink from this BK we’ve had to wait. They’ll have us pull up to the stop sign and someone brings our order out to us. Most of the time the wait is 5 mins but there have been several times I’ve waited 20 mins for food. (while the ice in our drinks melt.) I’ve called corporate and they’ve done nothing.
So theres the wait and then inevitably they always forget something in the bag. Sometimes we’re lucky and it’s just ketchup or sauce but sometimes it’s half the order.
I’m not even going to touch on the attitude of the employees. Obviously there’s management issues.
Seriously skip this BK and hit the one on Canal or City Park or Carollton and Claiborne.

For my 100^th review, I really wanted to do something special, something royal, something packed full of flavor. So with that said, this is my review of the pop machine at the Burger King on Carrollton and Tulane.
When you first walk in, its Coke-​trademarked swirls of white on bright red, shines like a 21^st century beacon of corn syrup and space-​age technology. The woman behind the counter who will either ask you to drive her home without ever taking your order or flat out treat you like a piece of shit for daring to enter her territory without in some way being related to her or just passing through, really adds to the unmistakable ambiance of being handled like the only ground cow in medieval town not covered in shit, aka the Burger King.
Heed these words fellow royal sojourner. Don’t be fooled by the variety of Whoppers on their technological masterpieces of digital menus via LCD wizardry. You’re not here for the fucking food. You’re here for The Machine.
Approach it slowly and with care. You are now in the circle of Coca-​Cola. Treat all souls within range like the roaming undead trying to rob you of your inbred lifeblood. For you are the King of Soft Drinks today my friend. You have the power of at least 100 flavors. I’m pretty sure. I didn’t do the math or anything. The pop permutations are enough to require a moon-​sized supercomputer. Don’t doubt it. Embrace it.
Push it. Push the circular button of your choice. Change your mind. Push another. Make the magic happen. Softly glide your fingers over its LED-​lit curves. Fill that cup with ice. Fill it. But only halfway, because you’re no rookie. You know how this is done. You want it, and you want it right. And you want it right now.
Raspberry Diet Coke? You can do it. Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper? Why not? You made it. You lived to see the age of tablet computers and Disney-​infested Star Wars. Drink up. Drink the future.
You have arrived. Michael Jackson is no more.
YOU are the King of Pop.