Arby’s

As a former employee I was falsely accused of sexual harassment of employee’s by Jared. Instead of sitting down, and asking me for my side of the story he jumps in my face towering over me. Talking shit to me. I thought gee are you going to ask me for my side of the story, because I did not sexually harass any girl, or any employee. I took another job, and I came back in there with acquaintances to get dinner before going to see a movie. Jared jumps in my face talking reckless to me very disrespectfully while I’m ordering my food. Keep in mind I did not say anything wrong to this man. I Haven’t been there since, and I won’t be going back there.

Went there on Sept 1 2015 at 11:20pm. Ordered a #14 in the drive thru. Got home, which is only about 4 min away and the curly fries were stale and cold and the sandwich was cold too. I should eat fast food but it was late and on the way back from work to home. Never going back.

When is this chain going out of business? The service is terrible and the value menu blows!

WHY do I torture myself. Everytime I come out of an Arby’s, I think the same thing. But yet, my brain decides to not remind me of how much I hate it when a decision is made and I agree to go. «Hate» seems like a strong word, and maybe it is. Actually, no it’s not.
We had just finished at Kids’ Hair, it was almost 7:00 and my kids were hungry. It was between Micky D’s, Arby’s, and BK. «Arby’s,» my daughter yells. «Ok,» I reply. Bad brain.
The menu has basically two choices. Roast beef (in various forms) and specialty sandwiches. Like I’m going to pay $ 5 for two pieces of bread and some meat I can put together at home for about 25 cents? They do now have a small bucket of what amounts to chicken nuggets. I got that for my son and if I were smart, I would have done the same thing. Instead, I got a Beef and Cheddar (if you can really call it cheese) for myself and a Regular roast beef for my daughter.
WHAT do they cook these things in to make the roast beef so DAMN SALTY? My god, it’s like pouring salt down my throat. That’s all I can taste. I can feel it in my throat just thinking about it. The ickiness stayed with me the rest of the night even after drinking some four large glasses of liquid to try to purge it.
I also feel robbed everytime I get the total. My bill that night came to $ 15 for two combos and an extra bucket of chicken nuggets. Holy cow.
To top it off, this particular restaurant was playing country music over the loud speaker. Now if you’re a country fan, that’s your business, but to me, that’s like sticking a cockroach in my ears. And if someone did that, I would like it better. Note to manager: we don’t live in Nashville. If you want to appeal to the masses, you don’t play songs that make you want to commit suicide.
Never again. Not even if my kids beg. Maybe my brain will remember paying too much for torturous music and a salt crusted throat. If not, I’ll have to think about a transplant. Bad brain.