You will encounter two emblematic Atlanta images on your way into The Vortex.
Naturally, you’ll encounter the skull. The Vortex is located inside the skull. Its visage informs the area around it: the punky, funky Little Five Points.
But first, you’ll encounter The Cockmaster.
Can you make him out? I shot this out of my back window, just as the light turned green.
The Cockmaster is an Atlanta staple. He stands on the corner of Ponce De Leon and Moreland wearing bicycle shorts stuffed (or are they) with what resembles a giant…errm…cock. He also carries a cane. But its the…errm…cock…that makes him The Cockmaster. That thing is huge. He’s an Atlanta staple.
Ok, now back to The Vortex.
The Vortex claims itself as having Atlanta’s best hamburger. I’m getting tired of declaring things “Atlanta’s best” anything, since I don’t think I have the credentials to do so. Instead, I’ll just say that The Vortex is my favorite place to go for a hamburger.
Bikers congregate outside. Rock music plays within. You walk inside and see this sign:
And so, accordingly, you seat yourself.
The menu is funky too. Not sure if you can make this out:
but it provides instructions on “behaving like an adult” (“You’re not in high school anymore, testosterone-boy. If a stranger is talking to your girlfriend, it’s really not that big a deal.”) and not “showing your ass” (“Few things are as embarassing as being cut-off at your favorite bar.”)
Lauren and I ordered iced tea, so that really wasn’t a problem. We diverged on our actual orders, though: I smartly ordered a cheeseburger and Lauren stupidly ordered a cuban sandwich.
“It’s soooo good,” said the waitress.
It wasn’t. “It’s really dry,” Lauren said sadly.
My burger was fantastic:
The bacon was a little too greasy and a little too curly, but the burger itself was great. The cheese was a nice complement (<--got that right this time). And of course onion rings are always a treat. Lauren left feeling ashamed of her order and I left feeling like the...errrm...cock of the walk.