Just Say No to the Cumberland Mall Chick-fil-a

So, I have a real beef (no pun intended) with the Chick-fil-a at the Cumberland Mall in Atlanta. If you are from Atlanta, you might be asking me what the heck am I doing at the Cumberland Mall, when there are so many other great shopping destinations? Well there is a real Chick-fil-a dilemma in the area where I work. See, the stand alone Chick-fil-a down the street from me is a drive-up establishment only. Yeah, I thought these things died away in the 1980s, too, but there's still one hanging on by a thread on the Cobb County/Fulton County line.

When I discovered this, I was very depressed, because I like to get OUT of my office for lunch and not bring it back to stink the place up. And, who doesn't like Chick-fil-a once a week for lunch? I guess chickens. But, while getting some fresh air might be nice in October or April in Atlanta...most of the time it's too hot, too cold or raining. This brings me to the Chick-fil-a in the Cumberland Mall. The mall is also right next to where I work and they have a Chick-fil-a in the food court. I thought I hit the jackpot. Maybe pick up some Chick-fil-a and browse some stores on my lunch break. Well, I could go on and on about my mall ratings, but let's just say Cumberland Mall is the ugly red-headed step sister of the Lenox and Phipps Malls in Buckhead. I mean really ugly.

So, that just leaves me to enjoy the Chick-fil-a in the food court, which is fine, or so I thought. Obviously, the owner of this franchise believes we are either in Cold War Russia or 1930s United States because we have a major rationing problem. I am addicted to ketchup. It's my catnip. Fries are just a vehicle to get that lovely red sauce into my mouth. Needless to say, I love eating lots and lots of ketchup with my waffle fries, since there's a lot of fry to be doused. Well the first time I ordered there, they asked me what condiments I wanted. I said honey mustard confidently, knowing that all Chick-fil-a's have a separate area with gobs of ketchup packets. I was sadly mistaken.

I walked away from the counter like an Alzheimer's patient lost in the bustling mall. I didn't know who had moved my ketchup. I stood there with my white bag filled with everything but ketchup. People walked around me and gave me dirty looks, but I didn't know what to do. Finally, it hit me that this Chick-fil-a didn't give its customers free reign over the ketchup packets. Maybe because of ketchup hoarders or addicts like me. Realizing this horrible fact, I walked back up to the counter and politely asked the ketchup deniers for some ketchup. What did they give me? Two packets. Two f-ing packets (trying to keep it clean for the kids)? Are you kidding me? Are these collector items? That's not enough to wet one of those jumbo waffle fries you sometimes get and think you've hit the lottery.

Well, I was ashamed and embarrassed, but somehow gathered the courage to ask for more. They of course looked at me like some kind of monster. Like I was taking a precious scarce resource from puppies and pandas. After disgusted looks, they gave me four more packets. For me, and my addiction, this was going to be rough, but I figured it was better than nothing at all.

Obviously, I'm a glutton for punishment, because I keep going back to this same Chick-fil-a, since it's so close. Thinking I had figured out the system, whenever they asked me for condiments, I proudly would announce that I'd like honey mustard AND EXTRA ketchup. Yes! Extra biatches! Dump that stuff in there!! Well at first it did work. But then, Joe Stalin in the back must have caught on to my game and held an informational briefing to all employees, because the last couple of times, my extra ketchup has gotten me only 4 packets. This is extra? I try to yell louder, thinking they don't hear me, but no...they do. So, acting like a fat kid being denied his chocolate, I demand more ketchup, which I have gotten.

Today, I've had enough though. Why you might ask? Because, now they flaunt my addiction. They might as well tease a lion with a nice sirloin steak. When I asked for my "extra" ketchup today, the nice little lady behind the counter pulled out five packets and with a smile asked, "Will five be extra enough?" Like surely no one would ever eat more than five packets in one sitting, as this is a drain on the national ketchup supply. I went back to my table, rationed my ketchup, ate my stale sandwich that was missing lettuce, although I explained 4 times NO tomatoes and pickles, YES to lettuce. Then, when I went to get a refill on my drink, they marked it. Yes, they actually count how many refills you get as well. Like I'm going to come back tomorrow and ask for another refill for free. I know the economy is bad, but cut me some slack.

So, I'm obviously a marked man by this Chick-fil-a, so the only thing I can do now is drive 15 minutes away to a dine-in Chick-fil-a with plenty of ketchup just waiting for me. As for the Chick-fil-a in the Cumberland Mall??? NO SPORKS!!!

"Is this enough EXTRA ketchup, Mr. Roof?"