CC
Charlie Cook
Apr 5, 2026
5 Stars for the Food, 0 Stars for My Invisibility Cloak
If you enjoy delicious, fresh food paired with the existential crisis of wondering if you’ve actually passed away and are now a ghost haunting a fast-food establishment, the Chambersburg Dairy Queen is the place for you.
The "Staring Contest" Phase:
I walked in and was immediately greeted by... well, nobody. I stood at the counter and successfully made eye contact with five different employees. It was like a high-stakes poker game, except instead of betting money, we were betting on how long I could stand there before someone acknowledged that I am a physical being who requires sustenance. Not a single person asked if I’d been helped. I’m convinced "Customer Service" is actually a game of hide-and-seek here, and the staff are Olympic-level hiders.
The Great Fry Caper:
Once the order was finally placed, the food came out fast and fresh. There was just one tiny plot hole: the missing fries.
I returned to the counter for Round 2 of "Does Anyone See Me?" After a few more minutes of contemplating my place in the universe, the kitchen prep hero—a legend among mortals—placed a fresh order of fries on the counter within seconds. We locked eyes. It was a beautiful, tragic moment. She knew the fries were for me. I knew the fries were for me. But alas, there was a Formica barrier between us that apparently can only be crossed by a certified Counter Specialist.
A staff member eventually drifted over from the drive-thru. We engaged in a silent, three-way gaze:
Me: Looking at the fries.
The Employee: Looking at me.
Me: Looking back at the employee.
You’d think this is where the fries and I finally unite, right? Plot twist. She just looked at them and went about her business. I had to wait for a different person to emerge from the back to hand me the box. I’ve had shorter wait times at the DMV.
The Legal Disclaimer:
We finished off with some ice cream, which was fantastic. However, I must report that the Blizzards were served right-side up. I’m fairly certain this is a felony in at least 48 states and a direct violation of the Geneva Convention. I’ll let it slide this time, but my soul yearns for the gravity-defying flip I was promised by 1990s marketing.
The Verdict:
Food: 10/10. Fresh, hot, and exactly what you want.
Service: 2/10. If you are an introvert who hates being spoken to, you will love it here because they will treat you like a literal ghost.
Will I go back? Absolutely. I just might bring a megaphone and a neon safety vest so the staff knows I'm not just a decorative pillar.
Seriously though, the food is great—just maybe hire a crossing guard for the three feet of space between the kitchen and the customer?