No, seriously. Fuck. You.
I pull up, I order, I pay, I get food.
I get home. I try to eat food.
Sadly, the food sucked.
The sandwich was the driest, stringiest, toughest roast beef I've ever had. It made beef jerky appealing.
The potato cakes were double-cooked. How do I know this? They were dark brown, not golden brown, and dry as morning-after hangover mouth.
And the iced tea had no ice.
At least the Arby's sauce was good.
So, really ... Arby's at Polaris ... Fuck you. I won't be back. Ever.