Tonight, I decided that I wanted to pick up Chick-fil-A for dinner. I was simply craving their waffle fries. Imagine my surprise when I neared my turn only to spot a line going out the door and cars wrapped around the building.
Then I remembered.
Ahhh.
If I agree with what an employee of a fast food restaurant said about marriage, then I most certainly should show my support by ordering a #1 with a diet coke. Because nothing says more about my stance on social issues than where I eat my chicken sandwich.
Then I also remembered.
I should find out which fast food restaurant has the same view as I do on foreign policies.
And government spending.
And...
It's laughable, no?
So I drove to Milo's.
Not to prove a point, but because I wasn't sitting in line for twenty minutes to wait for my dinner. I was hungry. Hungry doesn't suit me well.
I don't know, nor do I care, what any employee at Milo's or any other restaurant has to say about marriage. I don't particularly care what they have to say about anything.
I just want my food.
I don't care if Bob marries Mike.
I don't care if Betty marries Mary.
I don't care who marries who.
Because it's just not my business.
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