Understanding the Chik-Fil-A Craze

Author: Nick Pesce


Understanding the Chick-Fil-A Craze

The opening of Chick-Fil-A has sent shockwaves through the Duncan Student Center economy. Pillars of the Notre Dame food scene like Modern Market are reeling from the new kid on the block, as students around campus realize that it’s possible to spend their flex points on food that is actually digestible.

         “I hate these guys,” said Kate, a Modern Market employee whose name has been changed for privacy reasons. “They suck. They’re so happy all the time! When I serve food to somebody, the last thing I want to say is, ‘My pleasure.’ Our relationship as customer and employee comes from our mutual hatred of the food being exchanged, not happiness!”

         Kate is only one of many around campus who are searching for answers in the wake of Chick-Fil-A’s explosion onto the scene. Even professors are seeing consequences from the fried chicken craze. An anonymous professor in the Mendoza College of Business shared his thoughts with Scholastic: “Attendance has been horrible the past few weeks. I email students telling them to come to class, and they say they can’t because the Chick-Fil-A line is too long.”

         When asked if this reflected a new trend in attendance, the professor replied, “Oh no, my Mendoza students never came to class anyway. I think my students are using Chick-Fil-A as another excuse to not show up. I really should study their business model.”

         I figured the next step in understanding the impact of Chick-Fil-A was to score an interview with one of the restaurant’s managers in Duncan. However, this was much easier said than done. When I got within 50 feet of the Chick-Fil-A, several dude-bro chuds in Mendoza merchandise blocked my path, claiming they were “before me in the queue.” When I flashed my Scholastic press credentials, they let me pass, but not before one of them muttered something about the “mainstream media” under his breath.

         I navigated three different employees trying to hand me bags of fried chicken before I found a manager. My time had come! I could finally score the interview of my dreams. However, the manager noticed the ally pin on my backpack and escorted me off the premises, citing official Chick-Fil-A policy that restricted her communicating with anyone sporting, and I quote, “that kind of paraphernalia.”

         Foiled again, I suppose! Join me next time as I wear a different backpack and finally get the interview.