I Pledge Allegience To Chik-Fil-A
On Friday, three "normally" clear-thinking women decided to meet at the new Chik-Fil-A with our preschool aged children. Even more incredibly (to me), I, the one whose toes curl at the thought of the typical event that rhymes with "slay fate" in which many mothers seem to repeatedly punish themselves with, was the one who suggested the outing. Which led me to wonder if the essence of crack (see previous post) stuck to my nostril had, indeed, impaired my judgement when it comes to "What to do with five small children during waking hours" decisions.
However, for all of the exhausting repercussions felt for attempting such an endeavor, Chik-Fil-A delivered in ways that left us all covering our hearts with our right hands and spontaneously bursting out into a Pledge of Allegiance in the direction of the cardboard cut-out cow sheepishly advertising chicken.
Who among you -those remaining maternal sorts who occasionally subject their offspring to food of the "fast" variety- have EVER walked into such an establishment and experienced the following:
~You peer around the corner to survey the status of the coveted real estate right outside the sound-proof playroom. You see that the coveted booth is currently occupied by a manager conducting an interview. Needing to find a landing spot for the five birds who are already shedding coats and shoes, you settle for second best. A table with a view of the rubber-floored preschool paradise and you hope for the best.
~Before you can firmly place your children into assigned chairs, the interview conducting manager (henceforth she shall be referred to as "Angel") taps you on the shoulder and says "I couldn't help but noticing you looking for a table, and with those kiddos that booth I was sitting at would be perfect. I can sit anywhere, you take it...and can I get you a high chair or two?". Already at this point, the consideration to legally change the name of my firstborn daughter to hers is starting to take form.
~We situate ourselves at the best seat in the house thanks to "Angel". My friends and their littles appear...first Heather, than Laurel. We allow three seconds to act as though we were actually meeting for a leisurely 'catch up' lunch and then we snap back to attention, corralling our crews with firm grips and looks of warning under our "we're out for lunch! how fun!" smiles.
~This is when "Angel" reappears. To our unbelieving ears, she drops the words we have never heard standing the the scenario we presently stood: "You know what, ladies? How about we just take your order here. No need to come up front". My mind was trying to wrap itself around what she just offered. I hear Laurel to my right, "GET OUT! You can actually do this???". Apparently, she could. And she did. Our order was taken, credit cards/cash handed over and within minutes, our food delivered. Incredible. We were ready to sign a pledge to be weekly patrons for life.
~FYI: Chik-fil-A Original Sauce. My favorite. It will be served in Heaven.
("Angel" told me it is, and since she lives there, she should know).
~Thank you, Chik-Fil-A, for so thoughtfully providing little place mats that actually stick to the table. How is it that no one restaurant that I have ever been to has come up with this brilliant germ-resistant, table-preserving idea? I think trash bags for under the highchairs is a good "next step", should your "Amenities Committee" need ideas.
~We also appreciate the little Purell cloth packets provided immediately outside of GermLand. Such a considerate act of prevention, especially appreciated by a woman who had just completed two weeks of tending to five with coughs that wouldn't stop and was not eager to do it anytime soon.
~Dana, the grandfatherly greeter, came around with a hat-full of after-lunch butter mints to cleans our chicken and waffle fries-stained palates. "Why, but of course, Dana. How very kind! Be a darling and fetch our coats for us too, will you?". The line between fast food and fine dining (which is very large, I realize) was growing blurrier by the moment. I forgot to grab enough mints for all my children (who are watching), so I quickly eat the three I plucked from the hat, as to avoid the strife of choosing "the lucky three".
***
When we went to leave forty minutes later, I think we were all waiting for "Angel" to reappear and inform us that they have a valet service, ask for our keys and send the signal to have the vehicles brought up right outside the door. She did not, but she had done more enough to keep us Pledging Allegiance by dawn's early (and dusk's dark) light and all the moments in between.
~You peer around the corner to survey the status of the coveted real estate right outside the sound-proof playroom. You see that the coveted booth is currently occupied by a manager conducting an interview. Needing to find a landing spot for the five birds who are already shedding coats and shoes, you settle for second best. A table with a view of the rubber-floored preschool paradise and you hope for the best.
~Before you can firmly place your children into assigned chairs, the interview conducting manager (henceforth she shall be referred to as "Angel") taps you on the shoulder and says "I couldn't help but noticing you looking for a table, and with those kiddos that booth I was sitting at would be perfect. I can sit anywhere, you take it...and can I get you a high chair or two?". Already at this point, the consideration to legally change the name of my firstborn daughter to hers is starting to take form.
~We situate ourselves at the best seat in the house thanks to "Angel". My friends and their littles appear...first Heather, than Laurel. We allow three seconds to act as though we were actually meeting for a leisurely 'catch up' lunch and then we snap back to attention, corralling our crews with firm grips and looks of warning under our "we're out for lunch! how fun!" smiles.
~This is when "Angel" reappears. To our unbelieving ears, she drops the words we have never heard standing the the scenario we presently stood: "You know what, ladies? How about we just take your order here. No need to come up front". My mind was trying to wrap itself around what she just offered. I hear Laurel to my right, "GET OUT! You can actually do this???". Apparently, she could. And she did. Our order was taken, credit cards/cash handed over and within minutes, our food delivered. Incredible. We were ready to sign a pledge to be weekly patrons for life.
~FYI: Chik-fil-A Original Sauce. My favorite. It will be served in Heaven.
("Angel" told me it is, and since she lives there, she should know).
~Thank you, Chik-Fil-A, for so thoughtfully providing little place mats that actually stick to the table. How is it that no one restaurant that I have ever been to has come up with this brilliant germ-resistant, table-preserving idea? I think trash bags for under the highchairs is a good "next step", should your "Amenities Committee" need ideas.
~We also appreciate the little Purell cloth packets provided immediately outside of GermLand. Such a considerate act of prevention, especially appreciated by a woman who had just completed two weeks of tending to five with coughs that wouldn't stop and was not eager to do it anytime soon.
~Dana, the grandfatherly greeter, came around with a hat-full of after-lunch butter mints to cleans our chicken and waffle fries-stained palates. "Why, but of course, Dana. How very kind! Be a darling and fetch our coats for us too, will you?". The line between fast food and fine dining (which is very large, I realize) was growing blurrier by the moment. I forgot to grab enough mints for all my children (who are watching), so I quickly eat the three I plucked from the hat, as to avoid the strife of choosing "the lucky three".
***
When we went to leave forty minutes later, I think we were all waiting for "Angel" to reappear and inform us that they have a valet service, ask for our keys and send the signal to have the vehicles brought up right outside the door. She did not, but she had done more enough to keep us Pledging Allegiance by dawn's early (and dusk's dark) light and all the moments in between.
Thank you, Chik-Fil-A, for providing a brand of service our generation is rarely privy to. This kind of business model is how the term "loyal customer" came to be.
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