Usually, dining out at Chik-Fil-A results in little more than seeing a five year-old spill a Coke all over the floor – that, and a general galactic rise in bad cholesterol due to deep fried chicken in combo with at least one “Chik-Fil-A sauce” packet…per bite. Mhmmmm.
But today was different.
As I gobbled down my deliciousness on the patio outside, I noticed an older gentleman sort of lingering in the opposite corner. It wasn’t long before I wafted a very familiar and very decent smell. Cigarette smoke. The man must have been at least in his very late 60’s – given his general balding and gray hair and slightly stooped physique. I guessed him at mid 70s, and also realized that, though they were the Lucky-Strike-filters-are-for-losers…
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