Wait. Let's back up for a second. For those of you who don't know, my husband has a slight obsession with Chick-Fil-A. As in, he craves their milkshakes almost nightly. As in, our road trips are mapped out so we stop at CFAs along the way. As in, CFA is his idea of a good date night. I mean, c'mon, the cow came to our wedding! Just take a look at my husband's face:
He's obsessed. Or is it possessed? Or maybe he's actually both.
Anyways, that day- that glorious day last week when we pulled in to the original Chick-Fil-A parking lot- the clouds parted. Mike started doing impromptu Chinese fire drills around our car in the parking lot. We danced. We cried. We took pictures.
And then we ran in to the nearest booth to order off a full menu that includes fried okra, sweet potatoes, and chicken pot pie. And yes, we got all those items from a Southern waitress, with helmet hair, who has proudly been working at the establishment for 16 years. It said so on her name tag. She also found out the cow came to our wedding and gave each of us a stuffed cow. Bella really loved that part.
There are little round stools with red cushions right under this counter. Grab a seat, if you like!
Look! There's Gigi! She shared in this glorious moment with us. And do you see that mac & cheese and chicken pot pie I'm about to devour?
Them be some fried okra, corn muffins, and sweet taters next to the ol' classic waffle fries.