Ladies and gentlemen, a modest proposal: If and when a covid-19 vaccine is developed, let’s all agree to put Chick-fil-A in charge of its distribution.
Hear me out.
Back when I had a commute that involved more than the stairs leading into my home office, every morning I’d drive by a Dunkin’ Donuts.
If there were three cars or less in the drive-thru line, I’d pull in and order a dark roast coffee. Even with only three cars ahead of me, there was still a significant chance I would be in line for over twenty minutes and they’d get my order wrong.
If there were five cars in line, I’d maybe get my coffee in time for lunch.
Now I acknowledge this Dunkin’ Donuts is universally recognized as exceptionally slow.
And yet contrast this with every single Chick-fil-A I have ever visited. These people have the lunch time rush down to a science.
The Chick-fil-A drive-thru is always mobbed at lunch time, and that’s only increased since they’ve shut down their indoor dining.
But reader, I tell you, I would wait in a Chick-fil-A line with fifty cars in it, knowing I would get my lunch faster than my coffee at the three-car pile-up at Dunkin’.
(I believe I’m exaggerating for effect, but this might be factually true if we time tested it.)
At my local Chick-fil-A, there is a woman with a flag directing traffic. They’ve made a two-lane drive-thru, with about six people along the way taking your order, your payment, and finally giving you your food.
They get approximately one million people served per location in a lunch hour, and they never make a mistake. And not just the big stuff.
When I ask for three ketchups, I get three ketchups.
I want to give these workers a cash tip, but there’s so many of them I’d go bankrupt.
This is how you adjust to covid restrictions and get the job done.
So why wouldn’t we put these folks in charge of the vaccine distribution?
I trust Chick-fil-A not to screw this up more than my local pharmacy or any level of government.
And can we cut out the insurance companies and have Chick-fil-A handle the billing too?
Then we could skip the ten-page explanation of benefits and go straight to combo orders.
“Yes, I’ll take a number one with cheese, fries, and a vaccine. Three ketchups, please.”
You’d have your lunch and vaccine in five minutes flat.
There’s a lot of preliminary discussion about who should get the vaccine first—front line workers, vulnerable populations, etc.
But if we put Chick-fil-A in charge, we can have the whole country vaccinated in one lunch hour.
Okay, maybe two lunch hours.
Unless the vaccine is deployed on a Sunday.
Then we’re out of luck.