Monologue #2
The night before, I had only slept for about 45 minutes. I kinda have this problem where I can’t sleep if I am excited about something the next day, which is a bit self-sabotaging, but it’s something I can’t control. My friends and I had all agreed to meet up at Chik-fil-a 5:30 in the morning to ensure our spots as members of the #first100 customers of the restaurant when the event began at 6. While I felt like I was slowly dying of exhaustion, I was pretty optimistic. We were given wristbands that had our numbers on them (I was customer #48) and honestly I was honored that I was a part of this new fast-food restaurant’s history. We set up our canopy and our tents and I was happy that morning, even though I couldn’t really consistently hold my eyes open while I talked to people. And we were all having a great time, enjoying the 70 degree weather and playing Weezer’s “Beverly Hills” about 6 times in a row on our portable speakers—but then the hunger and the heat set in. We weren’t fed breakfast until hours after they were promised to us and it was starting to get really hot. And we weren’t allowed inside unless we had to go to the bathroom. And I didn’t really have to go a lot because I was pretty dehydrated. But it was when they announced breakfast that I realized that the event wasn’t as diginified as I thought it was going to be. It actually kind of felt like a prison? Before they gave us any meals, they had us line up in our number order to make sure that we were still on the premises, showing them our wristbands as proof. After a while my number started to feel like my new name, my old identity melting away in the 90 degree weather. After a long day and night of trying to survive the shame and horrific games that the employees were trying to get us to play, we awoke at 6am the next morning for one last line-up. And that was the line to get our free meal vouchers. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet but we were expected to put on a chik-fil-a hat and a chik-fil-a t-shirt and a fake smile while they documented the award ceremony. And you know what? Despite the misery and shame we all had to endure, I am glad I went because I got something that could not be taken away from me. No amount of embarrassing news coverage, no amount of being called a number, no amount of feeling like cattle can ever take away what I got that day. And that is free fast food to last me a lifetime. I grabbed that little plastic card, high-fived that cow, and never looked back.
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