I have always been a fan of eating. It’s necessary, nourishing, enjoyable, and a social experience. Not to mention, I’m quite good at it. So naturally, I get excited when free food is mentioned. This is exactly what happened the other day when my teacher mentioned that it was All You Can Eat Nugget Night at Chick-fil-A.
For anyone who does not understand what this date entails, it means that you can go to the Chick-fil-A of Waynesboro, make one small purchase of an 8-count nugget, and eat until you explode. Like a buffet of strictly chicken. (One of the many promotions that Chick-fil-A holds to gain family friendly attention; find more at cfarestaurant.com/waynesboro/events#.)
Now the idea of eating that much alone sounds kind of pathetic, so I mentioned it to my best friend, who to my relief was just as excited as I was. We texted around and found another brave soul willing to clog his arteries with us, and we headed out.
When we arrived, the main lot was pretty full; people parking up in the park-and-ride and along the curb. Luckily, someone had just left and we filled an opening close enough to the building that we didn’t have to actually put in physical effort. I placed my order: a single 8-count nugget and a cup of water. The cost of this was $2.79, $3.07 with tax. $3.07 to fill my stomach? Not bad, not bad at all. The cashier handed me my order, an extra plate, and a Lowe’s paint stirring stick to hold up whenever I needed a refill.
We had trouble finding a seat at first; the room full of greasy fingered people holding up their sticks as if they were at an auction. Once we had a place I sat staring at my plate wondering how much I could eat. Usually I get the 8-count and that is enough to fill me. Often, it is too much and I sit there with an extra one or two in front of me, causing me to poke my friend repeatedly until he agrees to finish them for me. Today was different, though. The words “All You Can Eat” does that to a person…
I slowed down around my 13th nugget. I was full. But endless nuggets… The event we were fairly certain was dine in only, but I felt compelled to sneak at least a few in my bag to take home to my family (see, good intentions).
“What are they gonna do? Repossess your chicken, Suzi? They can’t do that.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t be able to reuse that chicken for anyone else so that’d be a waste. And it’s not like they can search your bag or anything.”
My friends are so supportive.
We casually continued to hold up our stick, and I casually continued to slip them into a container in my bag. At one point, one of the many servers asked me how many refills I had had.
“Uhm…3?”
“Aww hun, don’t be embarrassed! There’s a man over there that I just gave a 12-count refill to. He’s had near 48!”
If one man can suck down 48 nuggets I could smuggle a few with me home.
Soon after, we decided we could not consume more and that we had to get going. That was the point that my friends realized they couldn’t carry their own out. One because he was a guy and a box wouldn’t fit in his pocket and he didn’t want the chicken just freely in there. The other because her purse was open at the top and they could topple out. Knowing our coordination, this was likely. So I offered to carry theirs for them. We then exited; my bag brimming with chicken.
I handed theirs back once at the car and we soon parted ways.
Once home I counted out my 18 smuggled nuggets.
Suzi Foltz is an AugustaFreePress.com intern and a senior at Wilson Memorial High School.
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