SW: “Hi, Welcome to Chickfila, may I help you?”
N: “Hi, I've got two coupons here for a free chicken sandwich.”
SW: “Two…?”
N: “Yes…two…”
SW: “I'm sorry sir but we can only take one coupon per customer per visit.”
N: “Couldn't I just go around again, technically?”
SW: …
N: “That's what it is right? I mean, this is a visit. I could just drive down to Burger King, do a circle and come back. That'd be another ‘visit.'”
SW: “No, technically it wouldn't…”
N: “Are you serious? You're going to give me a hard time about a goddamned chicken sandwich?”
SW: “Store policy sir.”
N: “So how long do I have to wait until I come back and use this other coupon?”
SW: …
N: “How fucking long?! I'm fucking hungry.”
SW: “Please calm down sir, or I'll have to ask you to leave the premises.”
N: “Listen. What's your name?”
SW: …
N: “Okay…how about this. You give me one chicken sandwich, I'll buy the other.”
SW: “Okay that's fine.”
N: “But why is that fine?!”
SW: “Sir-“
N: “No. I want my goddamned two chicken sandwiches right now. I got these coupons and you'd damn well better keep to your word. One coupon per visit, yeah I understand if I came up here with fifty fucking coupons, but I just want two. Can't you break the fucking Chickfila corporate protocol and help this hungry motherfucker out? There are cars behind me honkin and shit. You can hear them. Just take this coupon, you stupid whore.”
SW: …
N: “You know what? Fuck it. I've got a mute guy in the car here. How the fuck is he supposed to get his sandwich?”
SW: “Pull around sir.”
So I pull around. The bitch is about forty, has long, stringy black hair and a serious acne problem. You could fucking sky dive in those pores. Not to mention, I've never seen a goddamned unibrow as pronounced on a man, let alone a woman. She gives me a white bag. It feels light. As I pull away, I realize: I only got one fucking sandwich.
I pull around, again.
N: “What the fuck?”
SW: “One coupon per customer per visit.”
N: “Can I speak with your manager?”
SW: “I'm the highest ranking employee on duty, sir.”
N: “What the fuck is this, the Coast Guard? Are you protecting Chicken Sandwich Beach from the Two Coupon Terrorist? Give. me. my. goddamned. sandwich.”
SW: “Sir, the police will be called if you do not leave.”
N: “Fuck you.”
I pulled around and ate my ONE, GODDAMNED CHICKEN SANDWICH.
The thing was, it was a shitty day before this whole bullshit.
One coupon per customer per visit.
Fucking whore.