Ode to Chick-fil-A

I’ll admit it. I had never heard of Chick-fil-A until moving south. It took me about three years of living here to even go to one. And I don’t know why because it’s awesome! And people down here love their Chick-fil-A chicken. They eat that shit for breakfast. In New York we eat bagels and cream cheese or scrambled eggs or avocado toast. Maybe a smoothie or some oatmeal pancakes and fruit. Down here? Biscuits, gravy, and chicken nuggets. And since this is the Bible Belt, they are closed on Sundays. Sunday is for church. Could you imagine a bagel shop closed on a Sunday in New York? They would go out of business! And do you know what the best form of birth control ever is? Chick-fil-A between the hours of 3pm and 4pm on a school day. It’s Mecca for moms and their screaming, starving, hyperactive, not wanting to go home and do homework complaining children. Thank God for drive-thru right? Well…

Today is Martin Luther King Day, which really means ugh, my kid doesn’t have school today. My kid doesn’t have school and my nanny doesn’t come on Mondays. What the eff am I going to do with my toddler all day? Luckily for us Jews in the South, the JCC stays open and so does the babysitting room. Since I can only workout for so long, what do I do after this? Of course. Let’s go to Chick-Fil-A! Drive-thru of course.

Have you ever been to the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru in the South at lunchtime? Cars line up all the way into the main roads. And these are adults, getting lunch for themselves. You would think that your chicken sandwich comes with a side of stripper! I should have remembered this when I had the bright idea to take my little one there today. I couldn’t even get into the drive-thru line. It was backed up from all angles. Cars trying to get in from every direction. The line was so long, they had people walking up to car windows and taking orders in person.

And there’s my small child screaming from the backseat, “I WANT MY FOOD.” “LET’S GO.” “LET’S GO NOW.” “CARS MOVE!” And we are still stuck on the main road because in the South people are not aggressive. The two cars in front of me missed about 15 opportunities to turn into the line. I want to scream and slam on my horn. Like the true New Yorker that I am. I hate lines. I don’t do lines. Patient is not a word I would use to describe myself. Never has been. It must be a family trait. My dad is known to fake an injury to board first on an airplane. When I was 8, my parents put my uncle in my granny’s wheelchair so we could use the handicap line for Splash Mountain at Disney World. When my aunt can’t find a parking spot, she makes her own. Hmmm, I wonder where my son gets his behavior from?

And then I see it. The one way exit lane out of Chick-fil-A. It’s completely empty! If I turn left into that lane, I can quickly turn right and fit myself into the drive-thru lane. And I do. And I bet the car to my right will let me in because again, this is the South and people are too nice and not aggressive enough. And guess what? She does! Mission accomplished. Sorry 8 cars that I cut in front of. You might have screaming children in your backseat too. Don’t be mad at me. You could have done it too. That’s why your mad aren’t you? Because you didn’t think of it first and I just had the balls to do it and you didn’t! I think my dad would be proud. You can take the girl out of New York, but you can’t take New York out of the girl!

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