It was cold. I was huddled in a
ball on stairs near 8th Street waiting for friends. That epic hunger pain was
beginning - the one where you realized it's been hours, and hours, and only one
thing will conquer such gluttonous thoughts streaming through your vulnerable
little mind.
Fast Food.
Fast Food.
The girls arrived, with the same
determination on their faces. We were hungry ladies, with only dollars to
spare. What to do? Where to go? But of course...
NYU is located around this area,
and what is something that only NYU possesses in the city? That's right -
every southerner's dream:
Chick-Fil-A. Crispy, juicy chicken smothered in whatever sauce you prefer, and placed on a golden bun with the ever necessary two pickles. In fact, finding a Chick-Fil-A in New York City is close to the equivalent of finding Narnia.
Chick-Fil-A. Crispy, juicy chicken smothered in whatever sauce you prefer, and placed on a golden bun with the ever necessary two pickles. In fact, finding a Chick-Fil-A in New York City is close to the equivalent of finding Narnia.
I know. Bold statement. But you
must understand the excitement and anxiety felt at the time. I had never been
to a Chick-Fil-A north of Virginia, and the craving for those waffle fries had
been increasingly irrepressible.
We walked left. We walked right.
This gem isn't easy to locate, you see. NYU likes to keep their little secret
out of the public eye. Ahh... but we were too hungry for such games. "Where's
the Chick-Fil-A!?" Ivy finally asked a wondering student. There was
desperation in our eyes; a gleam on our skin. The girl showed us mercy.
"Up the street, to the
right."
These words were not directions to
live by (Up the street? To where - Harlem?) but they gave us hope. And that was
all we needed to fulfill our mission. I could see us in slow-motion. Dodging
people, glancing around nervously, excited but solemn. Until The Chicken
Sandwich was in our ambitious grasps, we could not dare to dream... not if our
dreams could so easily be dashed.
(Cue dramatic music)
Ah! The entrance. Now all we had to
do was walk past the guards... eh, I mean RAs. Nonchalantly, we gave our best
college faces, and hooked a quick right into the cafeteria. It's entirely
possible you could be homeless and walk into the student union, but we
weren't sure of the rules and now was not the time to ask.
Glowing lights beckoned,
pronouncing to us "The chicken from GOD is here for you!" I'm not
even a die hard Chick-Fil-A fan, but there will always be something magical
about finding places unknown. Need I mention my meal was under $5?
And that was the best fast food I've devoured since moving to New York. Except for maybe that one late-night Taco Bell excursion in Queens...