You bastards, there is a Chick fil A right around the corner. I have never been tempted to eat at it before. You bastards.
Partly this is because I resented this chain for a long time because I only figured out after, like, years, how they meant you to pronounce their name.
Well, at least today is Sunday. Perhaps I'll forget about it for a while.
You too?
I was dating a girl once, and we were hanging out somewhere downtown, and this guy next to us was talking to a friend on a cell phone. He was all, "let's meet at that place, Chick-Filla (with the 'a' like in fella), you know that place in the mall?" And this girl started laughing. I did too, of course. Later she told her friends, and they all made fun of him, including me, for not pronouncing it Chick-Fillet, of course, the fuck*ng idiot! My secret shame was that up until that point I had also pronounced it that way.
Later, well, actually at the very end of our relationship, we got into an argument, involving her friends, over the pronunciation of Nietzsche. I had mentioned him because she had mentioned in an email that they were studying him in a class, and
they laughed at me. At the time I was studying German so I felt I was a bit of an authority on it, but I was outnumbered so I backed down (which is unusual for me. Not that I'm always looking for an argument, but I hated being corrected with incorrect information). It still bothers me to this day. We weren't talking for a while, partly because she got married. But a while ago I started to see her on my MSN Messenger again, and was always looking for an opportunity to bring the subject up again. Like, "you know, I'm going to Germany this summer. Speaking of which, do you still pronounce Nietzsche incorrectly?" Or, "I took a class on Nietzsche last semester. How did you pronounce that again? Oh, interesting. That's not how my Harvard-trained Professor did." But it never did, and we don't talk anymore, again.
But Wombat, it's hella good. Chick-fil-A, that is.
Oh yeah, I have one friend who declared he was going to protest it for being closed on Sunday, until I told him it wasn't a Utah chain. Once he knew it wasn't a Mormon thing, he was OK with it.