My Pleasure

By Charles J. March III

Dude, have you been to Chick-fil-A recently?

I’ve noticed a new disturbing pattern with them regarding their obligatory customer service comments.

They’ve started doing this dismal thing after you pay at the window—where there’s the existential lag in-between that and when you receive your food—they lean over towards your car like a soul-piercing Hooters bartender trying to robotically flirt for tips, and say,

“So… how’s it going?”

Then it’s over. There’s nowhere to hide. All you can do is sweat and say something stupid.

I know I should just use DoorDash, but my circadian rhythm says I should “go out” on Saturday night—which means me going through a fast food drive-thru, and awkwardly interacting with some adolescent Christian.

Charles J. March III is a food porn addict from the South Side of the Windy City. His work has been upchucked (or soon will be) by Taco Bell Quarterly, Shot Glass Journal, Nauseated Drive, talking about strawberries all of the time, Eskimo Pie, Gutslut Press, etc. Less can be found at LinkedIn & SoundCloud.