The writer at Village Burger. Photo Courtesy of Sela Sokol.

The time is 7:05. My friend, Sophie Price, and I arrive at the esteemed Dunwoody establishment — “burger joint,” if you will — dubbed Village Burger. Now, almost everyone I’ve met is either infatuated by Village Burger, or disgusted by it, no in-between. In my opinion, it’s mid, but Sophie wanted it, and I was in the mood to be a good friend. I never leave fully satisfied after a Village Burger excursion, but this night was especially disturbing.

Law & Order Watch Party

At first, our trip to Village Burger appeared to be the same as always. We both successfully paid for seemingly normal orders, collected our drinks, and started off to look for our routine table. However, the second we walked onto the patio, Sophie noticed a cryptic show playing on the television, a drastic shift from the usual sports coverage. The show was quickly identified as Law & Order, the familiar theme music blasted throughout the establishment. Sophie and I agreed that our usual table, placed directly under the television, was unfit, considering the television’s ear-shattering volume. (Sophie wants to add that the table was also sticky. Gross.) Instead, we settled for a measly table in the corner. Although our location on the patio was farther away from the dramatic episode featuring “crying woman” and “guy crashing out,” our experience was still greatly affected by the television display. Also, Law & Order is boring. At least play an entertaining show.

“Ragebaiting” 7th Graders

Next, we noticed the gaggle of adolescent boys, seemingly (and unironically) in 6th or 7th grade. Their conversation was interesting to say the least, quotes such as “I love ragebaiting” and “If one couple breaks up first, they have to break up the other couple,” easily overheard. The boys and the television appeared to be involved in a closely tied Who-Can-Be-Louder competition, with one boy scolding another for not being able to guess an NFL player based on his stats.

Rabbit Burger

After 20 minutes of waiting — double the amount of time it usually takes — my burger finally arrived. Because my prior breakfast and lunch were filling meals, I decided to go on the lighter side for dinner, ordering a lettuce-wrapped Impossible burger (with pickles, grilled onions, and house sauce) and no side. Yes, I know. Lettuce wrap. No side. In retrospect, what was I thinking? Don’t hate on my Impossible burgers, though. I eat that with pride and fulfillment. To be fair, my expectations were high, considering the last lettuce-wrapped burger I had was from the far-superior Grindhouse Killer Burgers, which was the perfect lettuce-to-burger ratio. Unfortunately, Village Burger’s take on the lettuce wrap was disappointing, to say the least. The lettuce was flimsy and bitter, providing an unsatisfactory crunch, despite the abundance of greenery. Additionally, the grilled onions were distastefully minimal — considering that I paid extra for them — but there was an adequate amount of pickles. Sophie was particularly offended by my choice of burger vessel, jeering at the long leaf and calling it “rabbit food.”

As we walked out of the restaurant, we were greeted by a beautiful sunset, which was, by far, the best part of the night. Overall, my Village Burger experience was not particularly enjoyable, but it reminded me to pay attention to my surroundings and appreciate the smaller things in life… and also to never order a lettuce wrap again. (P.S. Sophie and I both had a stomachache after. Not worth it.)