We talked for hours about grocery stores and restaurants and gas stations, laughing at each other for not knowing what a “WaWa” or a “Waffle House” is. We lived 961.3 miles away from each other, but we were closer to each other, emotionally, than we were with the people in our own neighborhoods. We found a certain solace in being able to vent about our lives in our respective cities and not having to worry about the other one repeating what we said; for a while, being disconnected from each other’s actual lives was a nice outlet to relieve stress. Then the
While I sat waiting for him to finish, a thought dawned on me: “Oh my gosh, Jordan! Have you ever been to Chik-fil-a?”
“Maybe three times? There’s one about five hours from my house!” he said, pulling himself together.
Then I had another thought.
“WAIT! There isn’t a Zaxby’s up there, is there?”
He quickly responded, “What the heck is a Zaxby’s?”
And that was the moment my heart broke for the North.
@imjordanrandall
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