It's a chain, that acts like a good old-fashion drive-in, fast food, hang out. Pull up into a stall, peruse the menu, push a button, spew your order into a squak box, and in a few minutes a cherubic Sonic employee carrys your order out to your car on a red tray.
On good days, you may even get your food delivered via a roller blading high schooler.
I'd say it was just like the good old days, but since I wasn't around for the good old days, I'll have to just assume it was like the good old days.
Just one time I want pull up and replay a scene from one of the best films of all time, American Graffiti and order the following:
Course I'd need to be in a white 1958 Chevy Impala Sport Coupe, with a 327 Chevy, 6 Strombergs, Duntov cam, and a bitchen tuck and roll interior, sitting next to a bottle-blonde booze-luvin' girl named Debbie.
Think a 10-year old black civic and my two daughters will suffice?