Gangly, Sad Chicken Wings

February 8, 2011 § Leave a comment

I don’t remember where I got these but they must have been from the scrawniest, most dehydrated chickens on the farm – the ones who couldn’t run fast enough from the farmer. The weak are always punished for their lack of physical prowess, it seems, and thus we get to eat the sick, tired animals first. It’s the law of the jungle, as well as among the wild beasts of the field, and got carried down to the basket of fried wings that sat before me. Utterly disappointing. Not so disappointing that I didn’t finish them, though. I do have standards, after all, chief among them bieng that I eat what I pay for. If it’s not bad enough to call the manager over, I will manage to choke it down.

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