In Georgia I entered a Chick-fil-A drive-thru line of forty cars.
I turned off my engine. I prepared to wait the way my ancestors waited out a siege.
Six minutes later I was holding chicken.
I do not know what happened to the other thirty-nine cars. The line moved like water that had somewhere to be.
A young woman walked between the cars taking orders on a small tablet, on foot, in the sun, smiling like the sun was her idea.
I said thank you.
She said, "My pleasure."
I did not think about it then. I should have.
At the window I thanked the young man for the food.
"My pleasure."
I thanked him for the sauce.
"My pleasure."
I thanked him for thanking me—
"My pleasure."
I want to be clear about what was happening.
This was a duel.
In Japan I trained in courtesy for forty years. Bowing angles. Seasonal greetings. The correct depth of apology for seventeen distinct situations.
I was a white belt in that drive-thru.
I escalated. I used my most formal English. I thanked him on behalf of my entire family line.
He said, "My pleasure," and gave me extra sauce.
Extra sauce. Unprovoked. A counterattack.
I returned the next day to reclaim my honor.
It was Sunday. The restaurant was closed.
All of them were closed. In the entire country. They close every Sunday, and they have closed every Sunday since the beginning, because the founder made a promise, and the promise did not expire when he did.
I stood in the empty parking lot and understood I had lost twice.
Once to a teenager with sauce.
Once to a man I will never meet, who kept his word so long it became a building.
In my country we say a samurai's word is his life.
I had never seen a restaurant say it back.
I returned Monday. I ordered. And this time I said it first, before she could.
"My pleasure."
She smiled and said, "It sure is."
America, I surrender.
It was my pleasure.
they’re bluffing when they say you can still get knocked off the nice list this late in the game. santa’s been delivering gifts in japan for hours by now; that list is locked, do whatever you want.
wonderful world. Despite all the bad stuff. It’s a wonderful world bc at any and every moment theres a bunch of big nasty mothafuckas just huffing around in the middle of nowhere. pure instinct. Alone. Let me get some salmon. I hate this tree. Gotta fuck! Time for a 5 month rest.
without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest to ever do it. didn't even need to reverse that shit. took that dinky ass frog splash on the chin and muscled him straight into his own move. bawgame, 1-2-3. that's how we used to do it in 2012 bitch boy your time is up my time is now
Never forget when Jeff Hardy made his entrance glowing like a living artwork — debuted around 2008 and still one of the coolest entrances in WWE history 😭💚🔥
$5.50. Paid with six 1 dollar bills. That’s 50 cents change for my math enthusiasts out there. Two quarters for my coin enthusiasts out there. Heart condition at 35 for my health enthusiasts out there
Insanely lucky break that animals like to be pet. Really not much you could do with most of them otherwise. But I've got hands and you like to have the top of your head touched, looks like we're in business