Chick-Fil-A Versus The Homosexuals

I don’t eat a lot of fast food.

Mostly because, well, it’s shit. Delicious shit, in many cases, but last time I checked, pets think antifreeze is delicious: doesn’t mean I’d recommend it as a fucking snack.

I’ll eat fast food (Wendy’s, McDonald’s, what-have-you) if I’m on the road for something because it’s often difficult to do otherwise. This is fairly rare.

I’ll eat “higher-end” fast food if it’s the only choice — Five Guys, Panera, Chipotle — but again, we’re talking a fairly rare event, here. (Actually, I take an annual pilgrimage to Five Guys. Because, c’mon.)

And, finally, I’ll eat Chick-Fil-A.

Why not? Tasty food. Always gets high marks in terms of quality ingredients and relative healthfulness. We’ve one close by, and the people there are incredibly friendly. Beaming smiles and bright eyes and the epitome of politeness. Plus they have a giant cow tottering to and fro, and sometimes that big fuzzy motherfucker will come right up to your table and clear it for you. They have family nights. Kids get their faces painted. A sense of community lingers.

Of course, while their food is delicious, it turns out, their politics are not.

They have a raging hate-boner for same-sex couples.

Well, goddamnit.

Way to go, Chick-Fil-A. Way to be a dick. (I’m sure given their almost sexual fascination with chickens there’s a “cock” joke in there somewhere. I’ll leave it for you, my intrepid readers, to discover.)

It’s one thing to know that, say, a CEO is a dick. That’s no good, but you could maybe justify not caring so much — after all, I haven’t vetted every employee of every corporation that produces every product I consume. I don’t know that Steve Jobs isn’t a fetus-munching Scientologist or the guy who made my frozen burrito isn’t some kind of violent Eskimo-hater. Further, I’ve heard some folks say, “Well, they are Christian,” as if every Christian human has a secret agenda against the LGBT community. But here, the real rub is that Chick-Fil-A is actively opposed to gay marriage and LGBT rights, which is another way of saying they oppose human love, rationality, and human rights.

Which means I have to oppose their delicious chicken sandwiches.

It’s stupid, but my initial thought was, “Well, I can sometimes still eat the sandwiches, right?” Having a new kid, I have no intention of plugging his growing body up with fast food but I thought, “Well, we can take him to Chick-Fil-A. He can see the big cow. He can get his face painted on Tuesdays. Delicious milkshakes!” Except, fuck, fuck, every dollar I spend there means it’s a dollar that can go toward them being dicks.

“Here,” I say. “Here’s five dollars for this delicious meal.”

“Thanks!” chirps the Chick-Fil-A smiley-bot girl. “We’re going to donate twenty-five cents of your order toward making sure gays remain at sub-human legal levels! Would you like waffle fries with that?”

Actually, their chirpy, uber-polite veneer now takes on a Village of the Damned-esque quality, doesn’t it? Like, out back behind the franchise you’ll find a bunch of smiley blonde white girls with promise rings whanging homosexuals in the head with shovels and throwing their bodies into barrel fires. “God loves you!” they cry. “It’s a nice day at Chick-Fil-A!” The big fuzzy cow will totter up and laugh — hurr hurr hurr hurr — before taking a big ol’ cowflop on the bill of rights.

Point being, of course I can’t eat the fucking sandwiches. Not if I want to ever pretend my convictions have substance greater than that of cotton candy in a warm mouth. Is that what I’m going to teach my son someday? “Son, you have to standup and do what’s right. Taking the righteous path isn’t about taking the easy path. Stand by your convictions. Unless, of course, the enemy of those convictions is selling you a delectable chicken sandwich. Because then? Yeah, fuck that noise. You compromise your ideals for a sandwich like that. I’d shoot an Eskimo right in his cold heart just to eat a trio of waffle fries, my boy.”

I mean, shit, if Hitler’s Third Reich had the Chicken Deluxe Sandwich, are we to believe everyone might’ve just looked the other way when it came to the concentration camps?

(“That Hitler sure knows his breaded chicken!”)

I dunno. Point being, if you believe in something, then you have to at least be willing to commit the bare minimum toward that conviction, and here the bare minimum is “not eating their food.” I ate there just a week or two ago, and to my regret, that will have to stop. At least until they learn to play nice with the human race. You chicken-fucking bastards. (That’s why they’re all smiling. They’re banging chickens by the box-load. Don’t buy their bullshit. They love cock.)


  • Dear Mr. Wendig,

    I’ve been a huge fan since I found your blog almost a year ago. As a cock lover (who doesn’t love a good chicken sandwich?) and a proud member of the LGBT community, I have to admit that, after this post, I’ve got a wee bity boner for you now. You sir are a scholar and a gentleman.

    In all seriousness though, it gives me a warm fuzzy in the space where my cold, dead heart used to be when people openly support the cause of gay marriage. I must admit that I’ve not always really cared about the issue . . . that is until it busted me in the nose, but good.

    Years ago, my partner of over five years went in for a stress test on his heart. He was on the treadmill for all of 30 seconds when the stopped the test and called an ambulance because he was about to have a heart attack. Low and behold, 15 seconds later he did. I was quite shocked when I got the call from the Dr.’s office and immediately headed to the hospital where I was promptly told I couldn’t see him because I wasn’t family. Luckily there was a gay nurse on duty who informed me they were on the fence as whether he should have surgery or a different procedure, but they needed a family member to make the decision, and I couldn’t get in touch with them. Long story short, I had to physically threaten the staff to let me in (it lends to the threat if you look like a 300 lbs pissed off linebacker) and then threatened a lawsuit to get them to do what I deemed necessary.

    Anyway, the point is, that had I been allowed to marry him as I wanted, we would not have wasted the precious amount of time that ultimately did some minor damage to the heart muscle. He made a full recovery, by the way, eventually.

    Another intersting tidbit, specifically about Chic-fil-A. I was with two friends (a gay couple that’d been together for 16 years) eating a one of the Chic-fil-A restaraunts. This was before we knew about the politics involved. The were casually holding hands as they ate (Ugh, gag me with a spoon!) when the manager came over and asked them to leave. Not me, them. He informed them that “their kind” wasn’t welcome. This all became very dramatic and theatrical as you can imagine (we’re gay after all). It led to lots of theological debate there in the middle of the restaraunt, where my friend proceeded to wipe the floor with the manager. In a nutshell it all came down to the idea that as a “good christian” he should either choose to follow all the words in the bible, not just the ones that were convenient, or none of them. Specifically, coveting anothers wife, something about pigskin on Sunday. It was all way above my head. The point is, that this man was preaching about “God’s law” when we both knew that he had had an affair with a married woman, while being married.

    By no means do a assume he was speaking on behalf of the organization or for anyone/group except himself.

    The point is, my friend, that we faggots, lezzies, dykes and all other manner of ill begoten creatures salute you!

    • @Chris G:

      Man, that’s a tough story. I’m glad he’s doing well, or at least better, and that you made sure to get your way in there.

      Still, it’s an awful thing to have that level of human relationship dismissed because it doesn’t fit into the nice little box of 1950s Puritanical America.

      Anyway, rock out with your, erm, rooster out.

      And thanks, of course, for swinging by to give us that comment.

      — c.

  • @Matt: No, you’re an asshole if you commit hateful acts. I get what you’re saying, but it ignores a few things… This isn’t an argument. This is a *safe place* wherein we’re all basically on the same side, lamenting together. We’re not trying to convince anyone here of anything, and we’re certainly not trying to engage in civil discourse with people who agree with Chic-Fil-A’s stance here.

    I mean, really. Have you READ Chuck’s blog? This is not polite society, Matt. I’m sorry if you mistook it for such because we tend to write in full sentences here. 😛

    Were I trying to have a diplomatic discussion with the offending group, my choice of words would no doubt change, but the overall message would be the same. The systematic condemnation and disenfranchisement of a group of people (in this case, a group of people that includes me) simply because they are different —in a way that does not affect you in any tangible way—is despicable.

  • @Matt Usey

    I don’t think you’re parsing the argument here correctly. It’s not “You’re a jackhole because you disagree with me.” It’s more like “You’re a jackhole because you’re acting in an objectively discriminatory manner.” If someone can’t discern the difference between those two statements, that’s on them.

  • I wasn’t going to comment today, because I didn’t want to just say, “YEAH! ME TOO!” etc…

    @Chris G.-

    Thank you for sharing that. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that, but I am also glad you stood up for your (and your partner’s) wishes.

    I only hope that your wishes soon translate into lawful rights.

  • I never cease to be amazed by the whole “Love thy neighbour… unless they’re gay” argument. We don’t have Chik-Fil-A here in Australia, but we do still have plenty of other organisations full of bigoted idiots to make up for them.
    Perhaps this is coloured by my own view that marriage is somewhat obsolete anyway (look at divorce rates, marrying someone doesn’t mean that the two of you will stay loyal/love each other, so it just seems like a really expensive way to move in together and then move out again), but I think that if two people DO get married, it should be based on whether they do love each other, not on whether one person has dangly bits and the other doesn’t.
    To paraphrase Family Guy: “Why shouldn’t gay people have the right to be as miserable as straight people?”
    I also find it amusing how when I (a straight woman) make a comment in favour of gay couples, others assume that I must be a lesbian and will often abuse me for it.

  • I’ve been thinking about what I said last, and you know what? No, I don’t think I would change my language much. Actually, I think I’ll go right out and state: if you don’t think GLBT people of whatever stripe should have the same rights as everyone else including the right to enter into a marital contract (because really, that’s the issue here, not the the religious definition) that expresses their love for another human being, you are a bigot and an asshole.

  • I still don’t get it though…

    I’m always impressed by what humans are capable of. We’ve done some amazing things. We’re incredibly intelligent beings…

    ….What year is this? Why is this still an issue? What does it REALLY MATTER if gays are married? How can people who do have a problem with it have so much power that they can actually keep this from happening? Even if you don’t agree with it or it’s against a certain religion, to actually have that ALONE be enough to keep it from being law…that’s…pretty messed up.

    …I just don’t get it sometimes.

  • Finally! Someone is on board with me about Chikafilla! I have been staunchly opposed to them for years because a) there isn’t one near me, 2) they are only in malls, and d) I can’t spell or pronounce the name.
    I haven’t really followed the politics of the situation. But seriously. Malls? Come on. Malls aren’t even suitable places to hunker down in the event of a zombie apocalypse anymore. What’s the point?

  • First up to Chris G, I’m sorry you had to go through that man, I’m glad he made a full recovery.

    It’s been a long time coming, and there will always be bigoted people, but sooner or later LGBT rights aren’t going to be in question, they’ll be a reality worldwide. Any nation or people who oppose gay rights will be looked down upon in the same way most of us look down upon racists now.

    And yes, if you oppose someone’s right to get married, to love who they want, even though it affects you not at all, you’re a bigot. That might not fit your self image, but it’s true all the same.

    There is no Chic-A-Fila here in Kiwiland, and I hope there never is.

    Good post Chuck.

  • I have never tasted a Jesus Chicken burger, so that’s going to be no loss for me. I also have a number, some mentioned, of other places I don’t frequent. The thing is, that is my moral inability to contribute. Those stores–they don’t care. They are huge. Unless you send a letter or petition (which I do usually try to do), they won’t notice we’ve gone. They still probably won’t notice we’re gone. The best we can do is to act within our own moral compass to save our own sense of self.

    Jesus Chicken frankly sounds like it would creep the hell out of me anyway.

  • I admin it. I’ve backslidden. I made the same pledge to avoid Chic Fil-O-Hate-For-Them-Gays-a. Yet, their milkshakes are what I call a drug-free anti-depressant.

    Yet, guilt doesn’t go well on the palate. I know the sad state of the American family, but I know one thing: gays didn’t break marriage. Letting them marry will neither fix nor break it. In fact, why is the government telling adults what kind of relationship contract they should enter? I’m neither right nor left on this issue. I’m on the wayout spiral arm of the galaxy, stating: “Government has no authority over how I love.”

  • If anyone is looking for a fast food alternative to those delicious sandwiches… Mcdonalds has a Southern Fried Chicken sandwich that may hit the spot. It cannot compare in the slightest… but if you just can’t get the real stuff anymore and you’re desperate, you can make do with it. It must be the pickles…

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