Arby's in Gastonia

“The food is great, and I didn't have to wait long with 4 people in front of me. 10 more people came in after I did. They were doing a 2 person job. They only had 4 people working too, and still didn't have to wait long, and the food was cooked after I ordered it. I'm thinking how ever long it takes to cook 3 bacon burgers, and 2 chicken sandwiches, and 3 milk shakes. That's the fastest I ever been served, when they had to cook it after I ordered it. How ever long it takes to cook, is how long I had to wait. They had it in the bag quick. One woman did the taking orders and putting the order in the bag. That was at around 12:30 P.M.“

“ARBY’S – A CARNIVOROUS EPIPHANY THAT SHAMES YOUR MOTHER’S SUNDAY DINNER

Let me be blunt: walking into Arby’s is like entering the coliseum of meats. The air is thick with the scent of destiny and slow-roasted beef. You don’t just order at Arby’s—you submit. You surrender to the majesty of stacked meats and sauces so righteous they could baptize a grown man in pure umami glory.

Now let’s talk about that roast beef. This isn’t your mother’s roast beef, the one she microwaved into oblivion while talking about “portion control.” No. Arby’s roast beef is shaved into ribbons of glory, cascading over one another like edible silk forged in Olympus. It’s tender, juicy, unapologetically generous—everything your mother’s version wished it could be if it hadn’t been raised in a flavorless, overcooked prison of well-meaning mediocrity.

You ever bite into a Beef ‘n Cheddar and feel your soul temporarily leave your body to do a touchdown dance in the parking lot? Because I have. The warm, onion bun cradles the beef like it’s protecting a national treasure, and the cheddar sauce? It’s not a topping. It’s a life event.

And the Horsey Sauce—let’s talk about that devilish masterpiece. It’s not a condiment; it’s a challenge. A dare. A flirtation with greatness and a slap to the tastebuds that wakes you up like your mom yelling from upstairs, except this time you’re glad.

Arby’s doesn’t just have the meats—they are the meats. They understand the meats. They made a deal with a beef deity, and every sandwich is a holy relic.

Your mom may love you, but Arby’s respects you. Go where the meats call. Go to Arby’s.“