Chicken and pickles on bread, or sans-bread, either way you cook it I’m a Chick-Fil-A addict and I’ve ceased seeking treatment. There is nothing I like better than a sweet-tea served up with an original Chick-Fil-A sandwich and a side of salty, mouth-watering waffle fries. This isn’t a foodie write-up though, it’s a rant. There are a few things that I need to get off my chest…
I’m not ashamed of brand-association but I totally should be. Back home, where the famous chicken sandwich is (a lot) less popular, people know I love it. Wait, know isn’t the right word, they understand. My social media page, on more than one occasion, has been flooded with Chick-Fil-A updates (thanks friends) and I’ve rehabilitated more than one skeptical pallet. Let’s just say that when your (former) boss asks how you’re planning your road trip to best capitalize on Chick-Fil-A’s stops, you come to the realization that you have a v e r y real problem.
Separation of chicken and church.
Stop it with your judgmental assumptions of my political and religious sentiments. I’m a formidable believer in the separation of chicken and church; where I decide to spend my dollar does not make me any more or any less religious, worldly, far-left, far-right, fanatical or skeptical than I already am. So where do I stand? It’s none of your damn business. Oh, and for the record, I also shop at Starbucks, Target, eBay and ExxonMobile so obviously I’m an anti-abortionist, pro-choice, anti-equality, pro-gay activist. Who knew I was so complex.
It’s Your Pleasure.
No, there isn’t a button for that and yes, your manager will approve.
Dear Chick-Fil-A employees, stop looking at me like I have three heads whenever I ask for half sweet-tea half water. It’s not a difficult request and yes, I have tried mixing with unsweetened tea… its not the same. I’d like to enjoy a semi-sweetened beverage without your brief, judgmental eyebrow arch. I know, it’s your pleasure.
We celebrated our 1st wedding anniversary at a Chick-Fil-A. I know… pathetic. Let me set the record straight, it wasn’t part of the plan – we were hungry and tired from a day full of activities and had every intention of going to an elegant sit down. It was casual, spontaneous and incredibly un-romantic. It was perfect.
If you take offense to this post, I regret to report that I am unapologetic. This is not a shameless Chick-Fil-A plug, it’s simply the innocent ramblings of a mind running on chicken and pickles, seduced by illiterate cows. And I fully intend to #eatmorchikin.
Stay humble, stay focused, and make no small plans.