Pavlov’s Chick-fil-A

All the recent argument over Chick-fil-A has made me, frankly, quite hungry. One of those restaurants opened near my old place in Fairfax, Virginia. I went there maybe once a week. I had put it out of mind, but this controversy has had a rather Pavlovian effect.

It has reminded me and my taste buds of how much we miss the place. I miss the great chicken, the Chick-fil-A sauce, the waffle-cut fries, the milkshakes, the finely chipped rather than cubed ice in the soft drinks, and the high level of customer service that the management expected from its employees — and got.

So if I could get the ear of Chick-fil-A president Dan Cathy, I would strongly urge him to consider setting up shop in Lynden, Washington. He could sell a lot of chicken here and I guarantee that our mayor wouldn’t try to run his company out of town over Cathy’s views on gay marriage, or gay divorce for that matter.

Chick-fil-A sauce

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