Not My Pleasure

Audrey Smith, Editor-in-Chief

Devoured by hungry students after a long day, served at every concession stand, and even forced down our throats at every school event, Chick-fil-A. Home of the most boring and less than mediocre menu, obnoxious kindness, and last but not least, the “revolutionary” chicken sandwich. I mean honestly, If subpar chicken and warm wrinkly pickles on a sandwich is revolutionary for you, then I am so sorry, you deserve better. Their fries are somewhat of a disgrace to a waffle fry. They’re flavorless, soggy, and questionably far from cooked. I’d rather gulp window cleaner than sip their lemonade, that never has enough ice. Somehow the staff manages to find cups that melt the ice themselves, a true enigma. Chick fil A fans everywhere flocked to popeyes for a taste of something better than what they’ve been trying to convince themselves is quality food for years. They may refuse to acknowledge their search for “mor” but we all know it. Chick fil A is overrated. Quite frankly, it’s gross. Sorry “chickn” cult members, but someone had to say it.  Some may venture to say that contributing to the restaurant would require some degree of homophobia. Now I’m not so sure about their politics, but I think you’d have to hate yourself quite a bit to spend hard earned money on food of that quality and caliber. Their staff really inspires hatred on my part. The ingenuine and snarky “my pleasure” after every, single, word said by customers makes me not only uncomfortable, but is somewhat frustrating. I mean come on, it’s not your pleasure, you hate working for such an organization and I sympathize with you. I see the pain in your eyes, underneath that heinous visor forced upon your head, damp with sweat after taking 75 drive thru orders in the past minute. Chick fil a, it wasn’t my pleasure. And seriously, teach that wretched cow how to spell. However, they annually support community wide events such as Green Out and provide us with everyone’s favorite, Happy the Clown.