Story time.
A few years ago, Whataburger released a new buffalo ranch chicken strip sandwich, or something similar to that with an equally long name.
Let me preface this story by saying, I am a big fan of food. Big fan - especially spicy food.
I was really excited about this sandwich, like really excited. Really, really.
I’m going to venture out and say this is like in the fall of 2015, which is completly irrelevant to the story, except to say, that this sandwich was so important in my life, I remember the year it was released.
So try now to picture it. Mike and I, 2015, about to go out for the night, and I’m psyched about hitting up Whataburger afterward for a freakishly long named buffalo sandwich.
I have no idea where we went or what we did that night, but I do remember that we ended up in a fight.
Mike and I do not fight very often. We get into arguments of course, but they are usually quickly resolved and then we are over it and moving on.
However, this night, the night I was supposed to try the highly anticipated buffalo sandwich, we got into a doozie.
Fortunately, I was the one driving us home, so mid-quarrel, I rolled up into the Whataburger drive through.
Mike was unimpressed by my determination and my notable dedication to trying the buffalo sandwich. He sat cross armed in the passenger seat while I ordered the long awaited “buffalo ranch chicken strip sandwich, add lettuce and tomatoes, please.”
I don’t know if I offered to order him anything and he refused, or if I was so focused, I didn’t think to get him anything, but either way, he left empty handed, and I left with the buffalo sandwich.
We continued to argue all the way home, into the house, and as we got into bed.
Sidenote: I don’t know why I waited to eat the sandwich until I got into bed. Maybe I thought I needed to be in my happy place to fully experience the sandwich’s greatness.
Who knows.
Anywho, I remember this moment like it was yesterday. I opened the wrapper to find a sloppy, buffalo goodness, dripping everywhere. Mike and I were still arguing. I slathered ranch on top, and took a bite.
It was everything I had been hoping for.
Mike was mid sentence as I held the sandwich in front of his face.
He took a bite.
And then we sat in awe and silence as we ate the sandwich together, appreciating its perfectly combined crispy chicken strips, spicy buffalo sauce, and buttermilk ranch.
Our argument was over. Our life was good. Our bellies were full.
And that’s the story of how the buffalo ranch chicken strip sandwich from Whataburger saved my relationship.
Happy Friday, friends, and may all of your arguments be resolved with food!
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