The sky looked like God was angry.

What happened next involved biblical rain, a dead car window, a stunned teenager, and the real secret to life.

Do not test me in a drive-thru.

The Day We Nearly Drowned Buying Chicken

Recently, a friend and I stopped for Kentucky Fried Chicken on the way home from delivering a painting. It should have taken seven minutes. Ten if you count napkins

But no.

The man driving treated ordering chicken like he was selecting curtains for the White House.

We’re sitting in the drive-thru while a giant black thundercloud is rolling toward us like the end times, and he’s calmly discussing the emotional differences between white meat and dark meat.

“The thigh is juicier…” he says thoughtfully.

Sir.

The sky behind you looks like God is angry.

I’m over there watching the wind pick up thinking, Order the chicken before we meet Jesus.

Finally he places the order and pulls around to the window just as the heavens open up.

Now here’s where things went completely sideways.

His driver’s side window refuses to go down.

Not stuck halfway.

Not struggling.

Completely dead.

So this man decides he can somehow pay for the chicken through the backseat window like a raccoon operating heavy machinery.

He’s twisting around.

The card slips out of his fingers.

Rain is pouring.

Cars are lining up behind us.

At this point, I realize if somebody doesn’t take charge, we’re gonna die in this drive-thru.

So I throw open the car door and jump out into what can only be described as biblical rain.

I’m standing ankle-deep in puddles, soaking wet, hair plastered to my skull, trying to hand my debit card to this stunned teenage girl at the window who is staring at me like she just witnessed a prison escape.

The expression on her face said:

“Ma’am… are you being kidnapped?”

I paid for the chicken, climbed back into the car dripping wet, handed him his sandwich, opened my little cardboard box, grabbed a chicken leg, and took a bite like a woman who had survived a natural disaster.

That’s when he looked over at me and completely lost control laughing.

He said, “You look like somebody’s granny who just came down out of the mountains after three hard winters.”

And honestly?

I laughed so hard I nearly choked on a biscuit.

We laughed all the way home.

Which, come to think of it, is probably the real secret to life.

Not wellness routines.

Not productivity.

Not whether you picked dark meat or white meat.

Just finding somebody who will sit in a rainstorm with you while everything falls apart around the drive-thru window… and still laugh all the way home.

---

If you just laughed out loud at a woman standing ankle-deep in a puddle paying for chicken in a rainstorm —

you’re probably one of us.

The women who will get out of the car.

Who find somebody to sit in the storm with and laugh all the way home.

Who are done performing a life that doesn’t fit and have decided — quietly, defiantly, with a pink bow on their head if necessary — to just be exactly who they are.

That’s what Tuesday evenings are for.

A small group of paid members. Me. Zoom. Real talk. No agenda except showing up honestly.

Right now annual membership is 20% off.

Which is considerably less dramatic than jumping out of a moving vehicle in biblical rain.

But possibly just as worth it.

Join at 20% off →

And if something in this piece made you pause, nod, or feel a little less alone — please give it a heart before you go. That one small tap tells the algorithm this conversation matters. It puts these words in front of another woman who needs to hear them today. She's out there. Help me find her.

The things you've never said out loud? We say them on Tuesdays.