Raising Cane's: you either absolutely love it or absolutely despise it. I've never met anyone in my 18 years who is on the fence about their opinion unless they've never tried it. If you're unfamiliar with it, Raising Cane's (often shortened to Cane's) is a fast-food restaurant specializing in chicken tenders. They only offer four things on their menu: a 3-finger combo, the "box combo" that comes with 4 fingers, the "Cainiac combo" that gives 6 fingers, and the sandwich combo with 3 fingers in a bun. They come with crinkle-cut fries and a delicious piece of Texas toast, and all but the 3-finger combo include a side of coleslaw.

Now, when I say Cane's is good, I'm really understating how I feel. I don't want to sound too crazy, but I would even spend the night for some.

Oh, wait. I did.

The closest Cane's to my house (before this week) was about 45 minutes from my humble abode. Now, I love me some Cane's, but it's not exactly ideal to have to make an entire trip out of a chicken finger craving. A few months ago, my city announced a Cane's would be erected here, and everyone went bananas. Cane's really is that good, I promise. My best friend and I joked abut spending the night for the grand opening, but I don't think I ever took her seriously until the night of.

So, here's a play-by-play of the very strange night that took place all because we really wanted some chicken fingers.

11:50 pm

My friend gets off work and comes to pick me up. I'm excited, although a bit concerned. I've got jeans, an Ohio State sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, two portable chargers, my wallet, a lawn chair, and a blanket. I'm not really sure what you're supposed to bring to these kinds of events. I've never really pulled an all-nighter for anything, let alone a fast-food restaurant, so I was unprepared, to say the least.

We head off to our local Kroger to stock up on snacks and energy drinks for the night. I may have joked about the irony of us buying food so we can wait in line to get food, but later I realized how my past decisions were actually smart ones. $17 and a box of California rolls later, we are back in the car and on our way to the location of our town's new Raising Cane's.

12:10 am

We drive around in circles, trying to figure out how to enter. The entrance is blocked with traffic cones, and even the back parking lot is sanctioned off with a sign that only reads "Training in Progress." Not sure what kind of training was taking place in the dead of night in a parking lot at Cane's, but we weren't about to find out the hard way. We park behind the neighboring Chili's restaurant. Welcome to Chili's.

We're not really sure how to approach the people already waiting in line. Yes, there are already people waiting in line. In fact, there are six tents pitched in the grass beside the venue. I'm not just talking about any tents; these are tents only a survivalist would own. These people were serious about Cane's.

(This picture was taken the next morning--I couldn't get very good shots while we were there, thanks to the pitch black darkness enveloping us).

We finally go up to the little line ahead of us. We were surprised to find all the people already in line were quite a bit older than us, probably in their 50s and 60s. I personally had no idea Cane's had such a following in the older generations, but hey, you do you.

Immediately, they have us sign a ripped piece of cardboard that I later realize is a scrapped Dunkin' Donuts box. We are numbers 23 and 24 on the list. We couldn't believe 22 people had arrived before us. I don't think we, at the time, realized how seriously people can take these kinds of things.

The ladies with the sign-up sheet ask a few questions about ourselves. One is surprised to learn we are from the area, barely 10 minutes away. We're not really sure where she hails from, but we are confused nonetheless as to why she thinks it is strange that we are within driving distance from this new establishment.

12:34 am

I crack open a can of Pringles. This is my version of a cold one with the boys, except the boys are all 55-year-old women with Columbia jackets that could house an entire Puerto Rican village, and the cold one is just salt and vinegar chips. My friend, Jenna, decides to watch the season finale ofPretty Little Liars on her phone. I warn her about her battery dying. She's not worried; she has multiple charging devices. She fears nothing. I guess this is why we are sitting in a public place, prepared to sleep near strangers with our $700 phones.

1:00 am

I'm already done. Normally, I am a very adventurous person; I will try anything as long as you ask (except for most foods). I love having experiences and strange stories to tell later on or write articles about. But this I just cannot do. It's about 55 degrees out, which is not a bad temperature on normal days, but this is not a normal day. I am exhausted. I'm crunched up in a chair that is literally breaking beneath me. I've been here an hour and I'm already dreaming of going home.

I keep wanting to ask Jenna for her car keys so I can sleep somewhere even slightly warmer and comfier, but she is busy with her TV show, and I am dying inside, so I wait. I wait.

1:22 am

In the notes I kept as the night progressed, I write only "I'm wondering why Ohio exists. Like is there any reason. Why can't we die? I'm so cold; it's June." I wouldn't say that's my best writing, but it's still a valid thought even 20 hours later. I'm a bit dramatic when I'm grumpy.

1:30 am

A good friend of mine FaceTimes me when she realizes what we are doing. She quips, rather rationally, "Cane's is good, but it isn't that good." She is usually the voice of reason, and this time is no different. She laughs for several minutes. I realize the sheer stupidity of the night ahead of me, but we were in too far, and although I was suffering, I was excited to see what would happen. The people sleeping around me are less than pleased that I am talking on the phone, but I figure if we are waiting so long for chicken, there are worse things I could be doing.

I listen in on another lady speaking to someone waiting in line--a friend or stranger, I'm not sure--about how she has done "this" multiple times. At the time, I had no idea what "this" meant, but I realize now she goes to grand openings of restaurants around the country so that she can score free things. I applaud her perseverance, but I also wonder if she's seeing a psychologist. The two thoughts are definitely unrelated.

2:30 am

I've finally convinced Jenna to let us retire momentarily to her car. We're both freezing our tushies off, and, at least in the car, there is less air flow. We fumble around for 10 minutes trying to figure out if I can safely nap in the trunk. I can. But I don't. I'm too awake for someone so exhausted.

2:35 am

Jenna and I are fighting. She won't let me use her bag as a pillow. In hindsight, this argument is minuscule on my list of things to worry about, but at the time, it's literally the worst kind of betrayal. She won't let me use her bag!

I write, rather poetically, "Trunk hard. Hannah grumpy."

2:37 am

Forget the bag. Forget sleep. A news van has just pulled up, and the guy is pulling out his camera and tripod. My need for attention blares in my ears like a fire alarm: I need to be on the news. I need to be recognized for my tireless effort doing...nothing.I exit Jenna's car and am greeted by the news reporter and about three younger girls who attend my former high school. They all ask me to join in on this group interview. I act bashful, pretending as though my sole purpose of getting out of the car wasn't to nab a spot on the 5 am news. I realize as I am agreeing to this interview that I do not have a bra on, which I guess is fine considering I'm a proponent of #FreeTheNipple, but I'm not sure how free I want to be on my local news station.

3:00 am

I've been interviewed. It's nothing special. I stand tall at a whopping 5 feet, so it's no surprise that they put me in front of the group, despite being the oldest. I'm still the shortest. Story of my life.

3:22 am

Jenna has to go to the bathroom. The closest place open 24 hours is the infamous Bill's Donut Shop, so we drive 5 minutes down the road to use their bathrooms. We feel bad, so Jenna buys a dozen donuts. The guy at the counter finds our adventure hilarious. I realize at this point I'd rather just cry.

Jenna is grumpy. I remind myself in my notes to never pull an all-nighter with her again.

5:56 am

I'm rudely awoken by my new roommate for the night. I fell asleep around 4:40, but I don't remember doing so. I had my alarm set for 6 am. Jenna knows this. Not sure why she chose to wake me up on her own accord anyway, but I can't go back to sleep now. I wanted to be awake for the sunrise, which is a thing for me. If I have the chance to see a sunrise, I always will.

I write, "So tired. Beautiful [sic] sunrises oh my god."

6:00 am

We decide to get out of the car and reclaim our place in line. The sunrise is amazing. I think, if only for a moment, that I should leave after the sunrise because it was the best part.

6:15 am

Another news van rolls up. I'm too tired to claim this one. I let one of the girls be in the spotlight. Your time will come, Hannah. Except this van took up two parking spots, so I feel a little angry at this person.

Yeah, I saw you, Fox 45. You've been caught.

8:00 am

We start lining up. This seems a bit premature to me, considering the opening is scheduled for 10:30 am. But I can't complain. Many people have arrived after us, asking how long we've been here. We're a little embarrassed to admit we've been here for 8 hours now. We've got nothing on the people in the tents, who are now waking up and stowing away their temporary homes. They tell us they've been there since 11 am the day before. I'm appalled. They're still only 10-15 in line. We are still 23 and 24.

They set up a tent with a wheel and many free items. I see the free t-shirts for the first 100 in line. I decided right then and there the free items are almost worth it. Almost. I'm yet to see if the rest of the day makes it mucho worth it.

8:55 am

My former high school band and cheerleading squad arrive. They're the entertainment for the day. It really is that serious; huh.

9:10 am

I'm careful to take note of the instance where a younger man in front of me accidentally steps on a flower without realizing it, and a much older woman behind me says, "This is why I hate millennials. Just shows that they don't give a sh*t!" Shut up, Karen. You ruined our economy.

10:20 am

It's it. It's here. They begin letting people in early. I'm rewarded with a t-shirt, two Cane's lanyards, a free box combo for my next visit, and a warm welcome by the cheerleaders literally cheering every time we walk in the door. My food is out very quickly. It's so busy I have a hard time forming thoughts.

The ending was anticlimactic, considering the end reward was really just me stuffing my face with chicken and two slices of bread, but it was really an experience. I'm still waiting for them to air my braless body on the news.