Our local Chick-fil-A announced in January that it would be closed for the entire month of February for some remodeling. 

Wait.....What?  That's like closing the hospital.....the fire department.....the interstate system for a month.  You just can't do that.  We're talking about essential services here.

Sunday is one thing, but February?  Well, that's another.   

Public panic and pandemonium immediately ensued.  A dark, ominous cloud hung heavily over the city and despair could be seen in the hollow eyes of those longing for just one waffle fry to touch the tips of their craving tongues.  If they could just lick the pickle juice from one chicken flavored bun then maybe, just maybe, they could make it through another February day.  Their hands seemed to have a tremor about them and a hint of nervousness could be detected in their voices.  There was a palpable fretfulness in the air.  

Lunch hours found them all driving in circles, unsure of where to go.  The others with their garbled drive thru speakers left them frustrated.  They longed to hear the melodious sounds of "it's my pleasure" and grew tired of having incorrectly dressed burgers flung through their car windows without a word spoken.  You could hear them crying out from great distances for the boneless chicken.  It was a primal sound.  A sound of desperation. 

They thirsted for lemonade with bits of real lemon.  They craved chunks of peaches in their shakes.  The little biscuits.  The perfectly sized nuggets.  The seasoned, grilled chicken with bacon.  Ketchup packs that didn't require teeth.  The classy touch of the after dinner mints.   

The longings were many and yet all unfulfilled. 

Yes, it was a happy month for the chickens.  They strutted around like they were invincible......getting all cocky with the humans.  They took cruises, beach vacations, and taunted the cows.  They let their worries fall by the wayside.  For the first time since hatching, they began planning for the future.  A future that didn't include a heat lamp and a foil bag.                         

February came and went, but still no sign of the boneless chicken anywhere.  The masses grew impatient and irritated.  Cars circled the parking lot like a flock of buzzards searching for a dead, bloated goat in the sunshine.  They were looking for a sign.......any sign of progress....any posted announcements......any promise of hope.  They were looking for an end to this madness.  

Construction workers looked over their shoulders and felt a tinge of uneasiness.  They found new comfort from their hard hats.  People were hungry.  Hungry for a #1, no pickle, with a Coke and there was just no telling what they'd do to get it.   

Alas........today, the darkness was lifted.  After 6 long weeks, the chickens returned to town from their vacations....in a bag and deboned.  Word spread quickly.  Cars lined up.....around and around and around the building, they wrapped.  People walked with an extra quickness and bounce in their step.  They whistled happy tunes.  The light had returned in their eyes.  Children, who hadn't eaten since January, were satisfied once more.  Peace and contentment fell across the land.  All was well again.    

The boneless chicken was back in town.

The power of poultry on a buttery bun.

Never underestimate it. 

Hope your Thursday is delicious.