Lemmings Fer Chickin

Everyone is all caught up with this Chick-Fil-A drama which, whatever. The supporters of the restaurant chain’s stances say, “It’s the best sandwich in the world and it’s free speech.” The opponents of the restaurant chain’s stances say, “It’s the best sandwich in the world and it’s hate speech.” No one ever says what I want them to say which is: IT IS NOT THE BEST SANDWICH IN THE WORLD.

Why is nobody saying that? I’m pretty convinced that this is exactly like the emperor’s new clothes. Everyone is blindly copying what everyone else says and starting with universal praise for the Best Chicken Sandwich In The Nation, and then tacking on whatever opinions they have to the end of that.

I didn’t try a Chick-Fil-A sandwich until I was twenty two. I was really looking forward to that sandwich, too, mostly because my extremely rational then-boyfriend made a beautiful speech to tell me that the restaurant served food that was “too beautiful to eat.” Umm? Since he rarely resorted to superlatives, let me tell you that after that I was expecting nectar of the gods.

When I went on vacation, some friends found out that I’d never eaten at Chick-Fil-A and they acted like I was missing out on seeing the world. In fact, they stopped my magnificent vacation to IMMEDIATELY TAKE ME TO THE NEAREST CHICK-FIL-A. When we were in line, they oohed and aahed over the menu (which had only one option: CHICKEN), talked about how amazing the sandwiches were going to be, and threw around words like “simplicity” and “middle class fare.”

My host and hostess elbowed me and pointed to the vivacious little clerk, who had a fauxhawk. “See?” they told me, “The servers here are amazing. They’re happy all of the time.”
When I nodded politely they insisted. “ISN’T SHE THE CUTEST?”
It felt like I was in an unsolicited discussion with one of those Lord Of The Rings fans who quotes various passages to you from a fan fiction website and then is like, “DIDN’T THAT CAPTURE THE EXACT ESSENCE OF TOLKIEN’S BEST WORK? DIDN’T IT? DIDN’T IT? DIDN’T IT?” until you’re forced to force enthusiasm and say, “Yes, that’s the finest and most elegant thing I’ve ever heard and I need some privacy now because I’M PRETTY SURE I’M GOING TO CRY.”
Like that.

When I stepped up to the counter, the clerk seemed to have a premonition that I was a Chick-Fil-A virgin. I was not intimidated: the menu seemed extremely basic, and I ordered what everybody else was ordering: a chicken sandwich, fries, and a milkshake.
“It’s seasonal!” my friends congratulated me on my milkshake selection, “It’s mint chip.”

Yay!

The clerk said, “I can’t believe that people order those milk shakes. Did you know that they’re nine hundred calories?”
KILLJOY.

She handed it over, looking at me like she was disappointed with what I was about to do. I wasn’t fazed by this either, since this was a special Chick-Fil-A trip and because it was absolutely imperative that I like this food that was too beautiful to eat, darn it!

When I took my first bite, I realized that what they handed me was just a basic piece of fried chicken on a bun with two pickles and some ketchup. There were no little fireworks in my mouth. There was no miracle. Chick-Fil-A had served me a smallish, overpriced chicken sandwich, and here I was eating it while everybody looked on, awaiting my reaction.

Since they paid for it, I praised the sandwich lavishly, and drank my 900-calorie milkshake with abandon. It was the thing to do.

I am glad that people are dialoguing about free speech. I love that. But I wish that someone on either side would just stand up and say the truth, here: Chick-Fil-A might have a cult following, but ultimately what they hand you is just a sandwich.