When You Can’t Even Have Fried Chicken In Peace, We Still Have A Long Way To Go

My dad and I were getting some lunch, and I decided I wanted chicken. We went to a popular fried chicken place, and as we were eating, a lady came in. I didn’t hear everything, but she was loud so I could hear some. It seemed she was complaining about them messing her order up, and she “is very careful about watching her diet.” This confused me; she was at a fast food restaurant. 

I could hear the manager trying to get some clarifying information, as the lady wasn’t really explaining what was wrong. It also seemed the lady wanted a refund but also wanted her food corrected. I couldn’t see very well from where we were sitting, but suddenly, the woman shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Customer: “OH, MY F****** GOD! OH, MY F****** GOD! ARE YOU HOMOSEXUALS?! I F****** HATE HOMOSEXUALS!”

She then stormed out of the building and walked away. I watched her to make sure I didn’t need to call the cops. It was so scary and so weird that most of us were silent for several minutes — and there were kids in the establishment.

I got into our car but then decided to give the employees something. I tried to find some money but I couldn’t find any cash, so I felt bad I didn’t give them a tip. However, I wrote a note on a receipt that said, “Don’t let it get to you. It says more about them than about you. Keep up the great work!” and left it at the front counter.

Part of me wishes I had said, “Well, I hate homophobes!”