Allow me to tell you the story of the sandwich of my marital bliss. Back before I even knew hubs, my best friend worked at the Clinton Dairy Queen. I would stop by there all the time for Old Fashioned Strawberry Sodas. (Incidentally, they don't *technically* serve these anymore, but if you've got a connection, you can still get them. Just sayin'.)
At any rate, there was this cute blonde guy who ALSO worked at the Dairy Queen. One day, best friend and I were at the mall, and we ran into said cute guy. He was leaving Steak Escape with a to-go order. So we stopped and talked a minute, and he said that he was just taking his Grandest Chicken Sandwich to somewhere or other.
The Grandest Chicken is one of my favorite sandwiches. My love for this sandwich knows no bounds. So when cute blonde guy mentioned that he, too, harbored a deep affection for this gooey concoction of chicken, white bread, mayo, and deliciousness, my respect for him immediately jumped up a couple of notches.
Later, when best friend told me that cute blonde guy would be interested in asking me out, my teenaged brain rationalized the situation this way:
1.) He's really cute.
2.) He's really, really cute.
3.) He likes the Grandest Chicken.
From there, it was a short hop to our first chaperoned date. (No lie. Best friend came along. It was the three of us!) After that, it was a year of fun dates and school dances, four years of on-and-off dating through college, and then a joyful traipse down the aisle.
Now, why am I telling you all this? Because a Steak Escape just opened near where we live!! It's Grandest Chicken time ALL the time!! Clearly, this is a sign from the heavens that I made the right choice in selecting my martial partner. My judgement, confirmed by the universe, once again.
Now, off to get lunch . . .