I wish I knew how to quit you, Panda Express.
You're not healthy, nor exceptionally cheap, yet if even the slightest whiff of orange chicken hits my nose I am bound to do your bidding. It's a pretty pathetic circumstance.
One Panda is the same as any other, whether it's in the mall or dropped next to a Walgreen's in suburbia. So I can always count on my free will being infringed upon and decision-making skills limited regardless of a particular location.
I feel like I am like a 20 year smoker reviewing Parliament's. If you've never been, don't go. If you have gone, you already know what I mean.