Chick-Fil-A Doesn't Want My Business

I read with disbelief that the knuckleheads running Chick-Fil-A have decided that the 4.6% of the population that isn't heterosexual are their main focus.  In other words, they have caved to the homosexual pressure groups that have spent the last some odd years boycotting the chain and ignoring the faithful Christians, Jews, and others who have supported the chain, not just with good thoughts, but with their money.
I have stood in line patiently for at least three buy-ins when leftist groups encouraged others to avoid the restaurant.  I've eaten their dozens of time just because it's a tasty sandwich.
Then today, I waited for one hour and fifty three minutes while someone got around to taking my call on their customer "care" line.  I asked why they were stopping their donations to Christian organization- I was read-read!-the following word salad " Chik-Fil-A is continuing it's dedication to serving the community and has recently restructured the way that it will be donating beginning in 2020.  We will still be supporting children's groups, reading literacy, and homelessness.  We just won't be doing it with a continued partnership with The Salvation Army.  Our donations will go to more broad based areas that focus less on Christianity and more on helping people."
I'm paraphrasing what was said- but the bottom line is this- you can eat there if you want.  But for me?  They don't care about retaining my business-why would I care about helping theirs?  Think about it, you'll thank me later.

Bye, Babe

Anyone that has read any of my posts from the beginning would know that I married a stealing, cheating piece of compost and we divorced when I caught him with another man. (If that's female, I'll need to see the doctor confirmation)
And while that last little bit would read as though I am still bitter, that's not it by far. I dislike him, and I mock what I dislike. Read some more of my posts, you'll see.
But after God graciously made him someone else's problem, I met the love of my life.
It started when I came back to this crappy town and needed a place to live.  I had never ever lived alone, I was a little nervous.  But I called a sign that I has seen hundreds of times, and Richard answered.  He hustled right over and showed me a place that I didn't like.  Ever the salesman, he hopped in his black truck and lead me to another. That one I fell in love with, the moment I saw the deck. 
I signed, I worked crazy hours and once a month I would stop by and pay him.  We started with small chitchat. He asked me how old I was. Pro tip: if a man asks how old you are, he's seeing if he's looking at jail time.  I glibly told him what I still tell people- I'm 23.  Bless his heart, he believed me.
I kept waiting for him to ask me out, and then got tired of waiting. I asked, he said no. I asked why, he told me I was too young for him.
He really did think I was 23 and I fell in love with him on the spot.  Well maybe not on the spot, but it was about twenty minutes later.  We went on a cruise.  It was fun.  I started helping him after work with some of his apartments.  It was just to spend time with him, I'm not proud.
Later, he asked me if I wanted to see his new lake place.  It was cute. I went on one of the first of many great boat rides.  We ate dinner at Joe's Place and he took me home.  I stood outside his truck after he opened my door and he kissed me so quickly, it was like a hit and run.  I thought about him all night, the next time I saw him I kissed him back. With enthusiasm.
He asked me, "Why didn't you kiss me like that last night?"
Fast forward, and I moved my store into a spot in his building.  We saw more of each other, but that's not always a good thing.  We argued. We agreed, it was all over the place. We took trips to Bermuda, the Bahamas, Aruba, Alaska, Curacao, the Caymans (his personal favorite, while I always preferred Aruba) and Jamaica, Haiti, and more that I can't remember.
Holidays were marvelous.  He would help me decorate my giant tree, he pet my cats. He pet my dog, Caliope. He bought them Christmas presents.
Every Christmas and Thanksgiving, we visited his Aunt. Once, we went up to see a lighthouse for the weekend, and on the way back he met my Aunt.  While we were there, he insisted and raked her leaves. 
We would go to the casino for all you can eat crab legs, once I hit a straight flush playing poker.  I didn't realize it until I saw the look on his face. He loved strawberry daiquiris.  He had a beautiful voice, and once he sang Happy Birthday to my Mom's voicemail.  When she died, we found it was still on her phone.
When I found out he wasn't baptized, I took him to church every chance I could and the Lord worked His magic. He found God.
Another time, one of my brothers stopped through on the way to visiting Momma.  He invited me to go along, we hadn't all four been with her in over ten years, but I couldn't be gone for two weeks.  When my brother left, that wonderful man told me that we were going to close the stores, get tickets and fly out for the weekend.  We did, he even showed me the Grand Canyon.
When I got a new phone number, I was putting it in his phone for him and couldn't find my name-he had me listed under Little PooPoo-a nickname that has managed to annoy me and melt my heart at the same time.
Last Monday, when he didn't answer his phone, then he didn't pick me up, we found him dead on the bedroom floor. For  over ten years, rarely a day or a night went by that we didn't spend together.
He was patient, cranky, sweet, generous, loving and a jackass.  I never expected that I would ever find the love of my life-now I can't believe I'll never argue with him again about watching Friends. 
He was my Sweet Ba-boo. 
Hold the person that you love, stop bickering about whose turn it is to cook. Love them every minute, cherish them.  You'll thank me later.