You have never, ever known the sweetness of silence until you've been imprisoned in the Paramus Park Mall food court while a cacophony of children and shlumpy 30 year old radio DJ's from Radio Disney do the hockey poky and yell/sing along to Hannah Montana songs. It felt like it lasted forever and, reverberating off the walls, it left Jim and I with nothing to do but stare at each other in silence, pain and horror waiting for it to stop.
Still, I suffered through this willingly. Willingly I say! For just a taste of the sweet sweet Christian meat nuggets of Chick fil A. I initially tried to find an NYU student to bribe into taking me to their student only cafeteria that houses the only f-ing Chick Fil A in all of the state of New York, a seriously messed up fact that has even sparked very high flying dreams and rumors of other branch openings. For now, though, it's off the Jersey for you and me. I guess I'm just not in the god fearing west anymore where a Chick Fil A could be found easily – more often than not surrounded by power lines.
A reliable source once told me that pickle juice is their secret to perfection and as you'll read in my drink section this week, pickle juice is already a very good friend of mine. Jim likes the sandwich that comes with a couple slices of pickle on top, which is great, but I am most fond of the nuggets.