One of the great disadvantages of chucking everything and moving to beautiful Oregon (ok, so maybe a general announcement of, "Hey, I'm moving to Oregon—write if you get work," is not chucking everything, but whatever) has been the complete and utter absence of the glory that is Chick-fil-A. My arrival in the Beaver State (shut it) seems to have been timed almost exactly with the closure of the Lloyd Center CFA, the only one in the state. I weep.
And shortly thereafter, the Chick-fil-A in DFW airport was replaced with a Hebrew National. Please. A hot dog stand. I was devastated. Picture, if you will, a 30-something woman bubbling over with the excitement of a 7-year-old on Christmas morning as she sprints through the airport in a quest for the perfection that is the Chick-fil-A sandwich—a perfection that has been denied for months now. Imagine her as she arrives in the food court and giddily beelines for where she knows the beauty of that red and white beacon shines forth, only to pull up short when she sees in its stead a hideous red, blue, and yellow monstrosity hawking kosher hot dogs. Envision the precise moment that her inner 7-year-old realizes that Santa has taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque and the only thing waiting under the tree is the giant hairball that Felix has so thoughtfully horked up. A little piece of me died in the DFW airport that day.
Anyway, the gist of the matter is that CFA sandwiches have sadly become a rarity in my life. I have even sunk so low as e-mailing CFA HQ asking if there were any plans to license a franchise in the area—no dice. It's a bleak future. So I accept alternatives. Recently, McDonald's has come out with their own version of this sandwich. It ain't the same, but it'll do. I may or may not have eaten them three days in a row on occasion. (Yep, it's a shocker that I gained seven pounds in one week. However did that happen?) So, please, Chick-fil-A, consider this a combination open love letter and a desperate plea imploring you to once again bless this great state with the perfect chicken sandwich. I'm pretty sure I could keep you profitable even if you had no other customers—and we both know that ain't gonna happen. Bless us, I beg of you. A location in a county featuring cheese, trees, and ocean breeze would be ideal. Thank you for your consideration.
3 comments:
Guess what I'm having for breakfast tomorrow.
Hate me!!! ;)
It just means you need to come to Texas more. Wish you were going to be in ArkLaTex for Christmas since I'll be up there longer than usual. I miss you!!
They'll serve sandwiches for breakfast if you're willing to wait a bit longer. Guess how I know.
Just couldn't manage a third trip this year. When are you coming out here? Doesn't look like the house next door is still a vacation rental, but it's for sale. : D
I'm happy with a biscuit around my chicken. :)
It's gonna be a long time before I go anywhere. Stupid effing busted economy!
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