The chic-fil-a boy is in love with me.
I know this because everytime I go through the drive-thru, he gives me extra napkins, wishes me an extra-special day, and stares at me. Then he stares at my backseat. He’s thinking “Wow, this girl is hot. She loves chicken. And she piles worship music in her backseat. She is totally my kind of chic.”
Either that or I always have something hanging out of my nose, and my backseat’s blanket (which I always have handy for my car breaking down in the cold) looks extremely inviting.
John said I should make sure to write a song about him…and make sure there are dancing cows in the music video.