Eat More Chicken

My obligatory vacation (A.K.A obli-cation) is still on my mind and since all I did while there was eat out, why not write some more about it? Living in New York City, I very rarely go to fast food places. All of them here seem filthy and disgusting and there are just too many homeless people hanging out in there. I mean, how can I enjoy my number two combo at McDonald's when I'm sitting across from a lady in a trash bag taking a nap? And who can forget that Taco Bell/KFC on Waverly Place that was infested with rats over night? But once my ass gets off a plane in Texas I sniff out the nearest fast-food joint and eat that bitch up. And if it's a place that isn't in New York, even better.

My first fast-food visit was the wonder that is known as Chick-fil-A. I was driving south on Highway 59 not twenty minutes after leaving George Bush (I still-can't-believe-they-fucking-named-it-that) Intercontinental Airport when I spied my fave chicken sandwich of all time. I took the first exit, did a u-turn, wiped the drool from my lip and went in. They were so friendly. So very very friendly that it struck me like a pile of bricks upside my head. A nice lady greeted me and asked me if we wanted a free cup of coffee since it was so cold out. I was definitely not in New York City anymore. I ordered my chicken sandwich with the dry white bun and the pickles on it. I went to get my napkins and straw and find a table when I realized that a Chick-fil-A employee was following me around with my order on a tray. She placed it at the table that I chose and when I was done eating someone else came and cleared my table. These Chick-fil-A bitches were giving way better service than I ever do. It was heaven. I had it again a few days later at a mall and when I sat down with my food in the food court, one of them Chik-fil-A'ers came up and gave me some Purell to clean my hands. So classy. Those two visits were probably my favorite fast food experiences while on oblication. It was way better than the ill-advised trip to Jack in the Box in Wharton, Texas. The place was full of small town folks who looked at me as a real city slicker. I'm pretty sure that the girl who rang up my order was the same girl who is in that movie Precious. I got the spicy chicken sandwich. Compared to my Chick-fil-A, it tasted like ass. But it was still fast-food so it was alright.