One splendid Saturday night in NYC, I met a handsome, successful, educated young blue-eyes-with-a-bright-smile man whom I promptly abandoned at the pub so that I could make a necessary (necessary because I hadn't eaten since noon that day) Fried Chicken run. When I returned to collect my friend whom I had left there at the pub with the this guy's friend, I met them all outside.
Bucket in hand, I told him that I realize the stereotypical this moment appeared, but the chicken was so d@mn good, and no, I am not sorry.
This statement probably would've sufficed to save the moment....had it not been for his friend in the background laughing hysterically while choking out, "So she left you...for chicken? She left you for chicken? She seriously LEFT YOU for CHICKEN?!?!" in between gasps for air and his belly laughter.
It was some darn good chicken, though. No joke.
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