Missive from Hot-Lanta

As I deplaned here in the ATL, I asked the gate agent, "Is there a Chik-Fil-A in this airport?"

I only got as far as, "Is there a Ch..." before she cut me off with a brisk, "A-9."

At first I thought maybe she hadn't heard me right, I mean, Is there a Ch..." could be almost anything.

"Is there a Chapel or meditation room in this airport?" for example.

In JAX, the answer would have been "Yes."


(The sign there says "Meditation Room", but the sign on the door actually said "Chapel.")

But I decided to take it on faith and get it going on, so I trucked on down to gate A-9 where, sure enough, they were doling out the Chik'n sandwiches and waffle fries like nobody's business.

MmmmMM mmMmmmm MmmmMmmmmm mMMmmm MMMMM Mm mmm MM MmmmM MMMmmmmm mMMMmmm Mmm Mmm mm. Waffle fries.

Of course, I made the mistake of messaging Wil about this and now I have a mission before my flight boards: Track down a cooler in the airport and fill it with Chik'n sandwiches.

. . .

God, I can't wait to get home and sleep for days.