Burger King Manager Reviews and Complaints

Went to burger king in paris illinois a few hours ago got majorly sick just got back from telling them and all they said was sorry omg i thought i was dying they could of at least offered to refund my money i will never eat there again im telling all friends and family how i was treated with disrespect from a manager he couldnt give 2 *** less. pissed off what a waste of time and money to go out should of stayed home and cook a meal i know i wouldnt of got sick would of saved gas and money.

I went to the Burger King On Loop 288 in Denton TX. I order my 4 meals and a Large Water. On the screen it said the water cost was $0.00. Gave my money which was $11.00 & some change. But my recipet said $9.29!! She tried to say I had to pay for the water but the screen said it was free! She was very rude & she is a Manager! The customer service is horrible at this Burger King!! I refuse to go back!! So why is Burger King employee trying to pocket some of my money??

When traveling from Louisiana to the north east coast, there is a difference in treatment. I find the burger kings, taco bells, McDonald's and other restaurants that have all or a majority of black employees are the most rudest or non caring. It never did matter to me, until I/my family was being treated as a nuisance instead of a paying customer. There was so much joking around and horseplaying and not enough caring how the customer is being treated. The customer is/should be number one, he/she is paying for the food and helping to pay your salary. The Burger King in Bossier City Louisiana, has got the worse service and the rudest employees and the manager is non caring. When you travel north, anywhere, any restaurant past Louisiana borders and with a diversity in the work force have better attitudes, the work place is clean and the bathrooms are kept clean. I have never had to do this before, but I see a trend in service down south is moving to the poor and very poor side.

I slammed the car-door shut leaving the heater inside. I wanted to get in and out as quick as possible; just keep this simple so I ordered a number 1 without condiments from the young lady behind the counter. She looked at me puzzled - I assumed that she would be familiar with the term since she worked in the food industry - so I said without any gooey stuff, nothing squirted on pistola like, just lettuce, tomatoes, onions and pickles. She said "so you want it plain", I assumed it was colloquial fast food lingo for without condiments. When I unwrapped my burger it was plain, not fast food lingo plain, just plain – burger and bun. I decided never to eat there again, this happened here before; besides, if you visit this place in the summer you get to savor a noisome odor wafting from the nearby sewage treatment plant – the local youth lay claim to a monster lurking in the lagoon, others say it was just a pet komoda dragon that escaped – the local must have been planned according to the prevailing winds. I needed to get some money soon, pay a visit to the local ATM; at least I didn't give any tithings to Dennis Miller; I think he's going into the preachin business; it's easier to listen to peoples philistinian philosophical opinions on theology and eschatology and then mutually praise each other than have topics; although, I wonder when he questions a caller when he says that he doesn't think there actually are atheists, says that he takes people at face value, then later agrees with another caller stating that: "yea, there are no atheists in foxholes." Why not take this individuals statement at face value. Halleluah, it's a miracle, send your tithing to Dennis Miller…, but why digress, he's OK. I went to the restroom and apparently rested because the shithouse limerick, "here I sit broken hearted, paid a nickel to …." crossed my mind, but while resting two people entered; at first I thought it was a teenager showing his nephew the ways of his world: he kept saying *** on the wall, and *** here and there, assumingly to no avail; perhaps he was demonstrating. It was hard to tell, it was also hard to discern the other persons age or gender; was it a young male child, a young male, or a female – it very well may have been the later - the "sterile" quasi-echoing bathroom walls are not exactly anechoic chambers. The "˜female' one said; "you're holding your, "you can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay …but ya doesn't hafta to call me ________; or _______, Paul, and Mary" with your gloves on?"; he said yea sure, that's what give this food flavor. Apparently the "kids" don't just use their gloves when cooking or serving, they use the same pair of gloves for everything. There was some other banter about *** elsewhere as well. I was growing tired from all the resting, so I decided to furtively greet my fellow guests – introduce myself, so to speak -, but upon standing my motion was detected and I heard an almost guttural engulfing sound; the komoda dragon from the lagoon was summoned via the sewer pipes. My quests were gone in an instant, nothing left but their cleaning kit lying on the floor; that and the freshly hosed down walls, and floors, and…. Upon leaving the "restaurant", I relayed my experience to an elderly gentleman who appeared to be "dining" with his wife and another couple earlier; he said he wished I hadn't told him that, I suppose he prefers not knowing what makes the food so tasty. Perhaps it's a miraculously whipped special sauce prepared pistola style – applied with kid gloves. I went back to the car, my heater was still there, but then so was the steering wheel and dashboard. I always knew not to eat in most restaurants, particularly fast food places, and fast food places with young people is absolutely forbidden; they're bored, raised by children themselves, and the corporate hatred mentality – not all undeservingly so - exacerbates the situation. So this will absolutely do it for me, I will never again eat in a fast food restaurant again; I'll stick with something wholesome, like oatmeal with a small percentage of rat ***.. Bedford Burger King Manager: This occurred at 8 p.m. , Friday night on the 15th of January, 2010

I slammed the car-door shut leaving the heater inside. I wanted to get in and out as quick as possible; just keep this simple so I ordered a number 1 without condiments from the young lady behind the counter. She looked at me puzzled - I assumed that she would be familiar with the term since she worked in the food industry - so I said without any gooey stuff, just lettuce, tomatoes, onions and pickles. She said "so you want it plain", I assumed it was colloquial fast food lingo for without condiments. When I unwrapped my burger it was plain, not fast food lingo plain, just plain – burger and bun. I decided never to eat there again, this happened here before; besides, if you visit this place in the summer you get to savor a noisome odor wafting from the nearby sewage treatment plant – the local youth lay claim to a monster lurking in the lagoon, others say it was just a pet komoda dragon that escaped – the local must have been planned according to the prevailing winds. I needed to get some money soon, pay a visit to the local ATM; at least I didn't give any tithings to Dennis Miller; I think he's going into the preachin business; it's easier to listen to peoples philistinian philosophical opinions on theology and eschatology and then mutually praise each other than have topics; although, I wonder when he questions a caller when he says that he doesn't think there actually are atheists, says that he takes people at face value, then later agrees with another caller stating that: "yea, there are no atheists in foxholes." Why not take this individuals statement at face value. Halleluah, send your tithing to Dennis Miller…, but why digress. I went to the restroom and apparently rested because the shithouse limerick, "here I sit broken hearted, paid a nickel to …." crossed my mind, but while resting two people entered; at first I thought it was a teenager showing his nephew the ways of his world: he kept saying *** on the wall, and *** here and there, assumingly to no avail; perhaps he was demonstrating. It was hard to tell, it was also hard to discern the other persons age or gender; was it a young male child, a young male, or a female – it very well may have been the later - the "sterile" quasi-echoing bathroom walls are not exactly anechoic chambers. The "˜female' one said; "you're holding your, "you can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay …but ya doesn't hafta to call me ________; or _______, Paul, and Mary" with your gloves on?"; he said yea sure, that's what give this food flavor. Apparently they don't just use their gloves when cooking or serving, they use the same pair of gloves for everything. There was some other banter about *** elsewhere as well. I was growing tired from all the resting, so I decided to furtively greet my fellow guests – introduce myself, so to speak -, but upon standing my motion was detected and I heard an almost guttural engulfing sound; the komoda dragon from the lagoon was summoned via the sewer pipes. My quests were gone in an instant, nothing left but their cleaning kit lying on the floor; that and the freshly hosed down walls, and floors, and…. Upon leaving the "restaurant", I relayed my experience to an elderly gentleman who appeared to be "dining" with his wife and another couple earlier; he said he wished I hadn't told him that, I suppose he prefers not knowing what makes the food so tasty. I went back to the car, my heater was still there, but then so was the steering wheel and dashboard. I always knew not to eat in most restaurants, particularly fast food places, and fast food places with young people is absolutely forbidden; they're bored, raised by children themselves, and the corporate hatred mentality – not all undeservingly so - exacerbates the situation. So this will absolutely do it for me, I will never again eat in a fast food restaurant again; I'll stick with something wholesome, like oatmeal with a small percentage of rat ***.. Bedford Burger King Manager: This occurred at 8 p.m. , Friday night on the 15th of January, 2010 Bedford Burger a la ka mode

I slammed the car-door shut leaving the heater inside. I wanted to get in and out as quick as possible; just keep this simple so I ordered a number 1 without condiments from the young lady behind the counter. She looked at me puzzled - I assumed that she would be familiar with the term since she worked in the food industry - so I said without any gooey stuff, just lettuce, tomatoes, onions and pickles. She said "so you want it plain", I assumed it was colloquial fast food lingo for without condiments. When I unwrapped my burger it was plain, not fast food lingo plain, just plain – burger and bun. I decided never to eat there again, this happened here before; besides, if you visit this place in the summer you get to savor a noisome odor wafting from the nearby sewage treatment plant – the local youth lay claim to a monster lurking in the lagoon – the local must have been planned according to the prevailing winds. I needed to get some money soon, pay a visit to the local ATM; at least I didn't give any tithings to Dennis Miller; I think he's going into the preachin business; it's easier to listen to peoples philosophical philistinian opinion on theology and eschatology and then mutually praise each other than have topics; although, I wonder when he questions a caller when he says that he doesn't think there actually are atheists, says that he takes people at face value, then later agrees with another caller stating that: "yea, there are no atheists in foxholes." Why not take this individuals statement at face value. Hallelujah, send your tithing to Dennis Miller…, but why digress. I went to the restroom and apparently rested because the shithouse limerick, "here I sit broken hearted, paid a nickel to …." crossed my mind, but while resting two people entered; at first I thought it was a teenager showing his nephew the ways of his world: he kept saying *** on the wall, and *** here and there, assumingly to no avail; perhaps he was demonstrating. It was hard to tell, it was also hard to discern the other persons age or gender; was it a young male child, a young male, or a female – it very well may have been the later - the "sterile" quasi-echoing bathroom walls are not exactly anechoic chambers. The "˜female' one said; "you're holding your, "you can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay …but ya doesn't hafta to call me ________; or _______, Paul, and Mary" with your gloves on?"; he said yea sure, that's what give this food flavor. Apparently they don't just use their gloves when cooking or serving, they use the same pair of gloves for everything. There was some other banter about *** elsewhere as well. I was growing tired from all the resting, so I decided to furtively greet my fellow guests – introduce myself, so to speak -, but upon standing my motion was detected and I heard an almost guttural engulfing sound; the monster from the lagoon was summoned via the sewer pipes. My quests were gone in an instant. Upon leaving the "restaurant", I relayed my experience to an elderly gentleman who appeared to be "dining" with his wife and another couple earlier; he said he wished I hadn't told him that, I suppose he prefers not knowing what makes the food so tasty. I went back to the car, my heater was still there, but then so was the steering wheel and dashboard. I always knew not to eat in most restaurants, particularly fast food places, and fast food places with young people is absolutely forbidden; they're bored, raised by children themselves, and the corporate hatred mentality exacerbates the situation. So this will absolutely do it for me, I will never again eat in a fast food restaurant again; I'll stick with something wholesome, like oatmeal with it's half of a percent of rat ***, or whatever amount it is. Burger King Manager: This occurred at 8 p.m. , Friday night on the 15th of January, 2010