The prevailing fan theory as to why Chick-fil-A avoided Nevada was that the family-owned, Atlanta-based fast-food chain didn’t want us sinners getting our dirty hands on their sweet Christian chicken. I wasn’t offended, just inconvenienced. Like many Las Vegas transplants, I grew up with Chick-fil-A’s hand-breaded delights. That chicken is home to me.

Then came the 2012 controversy over the company’s stance against same-sex marriage. For those who’ve lost track: The family’s WinShape Foundation had been donating money to groups that were considered anti-gay. President/CEO Dan T. Cathy made things worse by commenting against same-sex marriage. He actually used the phrase “inviting God’s judgment on our nation.” Ever since, I’ve felt terrible about eating there. By which I mean that I treated Chick-fil-A like an embarrassing uncle who makes biased remarks at Thanksgiving but also cooks one hell of a turkey. You only see him on holidays, so what’s the harm?

Now that two Chick-fil-As are open in the southeast, Valley, with more set to open over the next five years, I’m no longer geographically separated from my guilty pleasure. So is it wrong to eat there? What if you really love their food? If a Southern chicken purveyor can grow beyond its aversion to “Sin City,” perhaps its position on social issues can evolve, too?

The company will probably always be faith-based, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Jesus did preach a message of love and charity, which beats the usual profits-first agenda. By closing Sundays, for example, Chick-fil-A is one of the only employers that guarantees a day of rest for workers in this service-industry town. The organization has also given out $34 million in scholarships to employees.

Regarding LGBTQ rights, consumer activism has more or less worked. Chick-fil-A seems to have stopped donating money to questionable groups (though some dispute this; Chick-fil-A didn’t respond to our inquires). Cathy has stayed out of the political arena. And in 2012, the chain created the Chick-fil-A Foundation, focused on helping youth “become all they were created to be.” Beyond the sly reference to creationism, it’s a pretty uncontroversial mission.

While the conflict left a bad aftertaste, I feel okay enough to stop hating myself for eating there. Now I wonder what that sprawling drive-thru line will do to my carbon footprint …