On a chilly Monday morning (Sunday was not an option, obviously), I embarked on my 2 hour long journey to the closest Chick-Fil-A in Nashua, New Hampshire. The sun was shining and morale was high. This was going to be the first day of the rest of my life.
Upon arrival my stomach was rumbling and I was giddy with excitement. When I strolled in, I first noticed how busy it was inside and I quickly realized that this was not your typical fast food dining experience. Unsure of what to order and overwhelmed by my options, I simply started with the original Chick-Fil-A sandwich, waffle fries, a frozen lemonade and of course, the Chick-Fil-A sauce.
They handed me my number and I found a booth. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better they BROUGHT THE FOOD TO MY TABLE. Honey, this is no Wendy’s! I bowed my head; I felt so blessed. Then I took a sip of my lemonade. It was CREAMY and SOUR and it melted in my mouth. How do they make such a creation?!
I was full and satisfied. But then I caught wind of some news I was not prepared for. There was another Chick-Fil-A in town. What’s better than one Chick-Fil-A? Two.
Off we went to experience the joy of southern fried chicken and perfectly creamy lemonade all over again. Thank you to the Chick-Fil-A’s of Nashua for the best fast food I have ever had. I’ve thought about that lemonade and sauce late every night since. It was a day for the record books, my friends. It was day that will live in infamy. It was a day that I, and my thighs, will never forget.