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Help! I Tried Ordering From Chik-Fil-A’s Secret Menu And Now I’m Enrolled In Conversion Therapy

As a person on the go, I understand that fast food is about convenience, not quality, so I’ve never filed a formal complaint until now. I’ve experienced everything from undercooked meat to hair in my Diet Coke. Still, nothing compares to my recent trip to Chick-fil-A where smiling members of the staff nearly hog-tied me and sent me to one of South Carolina’s last remaining gay conversion programs.

Already feeling self-conscious about ordering off the secret menu for the first time, you can imagine my horror when I asked the cashier whether I should try the fried chicken club or the spicy char sandwich and he recommended I try “being electroshocked by an unlicensed counselor in a church basement.” Appalled but starving, I settled on the fried chicken club and grabbed my order number.

Only after realizing everyone in line behind me was getting their food did I notice there was no order number on my receipt, but instead a quote that read, “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” Was this some sort of joke? Of course, I’d heard about Chick-fil-A’s sordid past and homophobic reputation, but surely the staff couldn’t be emotionally invested in the sexual orientation of each and every one of its customers.

I marched back up to the register to demand an explanation for this kind of bigotry, but before I could get a word out, the cashier advised me to “pray the gay away” and then slipped a rubber band around my wrist and whispered in my ear for me to snap it on my skin every time I had an impure thought while watching a Channing Tatum movie.

I was beyond disgusted and in total disbelief, but I was a paying customer and I’d be damned if I was going to leave this god-fearing shit hole without some free dipping sauces.

He informed me they had honey mustard, garden herb ranch, and a “Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman” Polynesian blend. That was the last straw. I took my Polynesian dipping sauces and got out of there, but not before the cashier gave me his number and told me to contact him if I was ever interested in living in God’s vision. Anti-gay rhetoric aside, he was physically very much my type. Now I just have to convert him.