Having a gun would be such a bad thing for me.
Chick Fil A here is always busy in the morning. It's so busy, they reworked the parking lot about nine months ago. Now the drivethrough is supposed to go around the building first and then turn left into a lane that cuts in front of the building and around to the drive through. It's like a wraparound. Signs are everywhere.
Every time I go, however, I can count on at least one jackass douche assclown twit cutting the line by squeezing in between the collapsible poles that stake out the lanes. There are two places this is possible. 1) in front of the building where you make the left turn after circling the building and into the final stretch and 2) at the back of the building where you've circled one row out from the speaker and are a row over parallel to the delivery window.
Sometimes that works out in my favor. I've had at least three meals paid for by one of the line cutting offenders as if a free biscuit will ease my frustration at being cut off.
Today? No free meals. But... I do what I'm supposed to and circle the building. As I go to make the turn that brings me a row over and parallel to the delivery window a service truck for a local pest control company floors it and skids in front of me. I have to slam the brakes to keep from hitting him and this jerk has the audacity to honk his flipping horn as he breaks line in front of me. When I go to make the left turn and into the final stretch in front of the building some middle aged woman in a white SUV who is on her phone comes sliding in and runs over two of the collapsible poles in her rush to cut me off and break line.
At that point? I could have taken a rocket launcher to both of their vehicles, driven over the charred remains and ordered my chicken biscuit without a twinge of guilt.
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