One day a week where I work, fried chicken is served buffet style. People line up to take their pieces of fried chicken and assorted starchy vegetables. Inevitably there is one or two people who will pick up every single piece of fried chicken turn it over carefully and give a running commentary to their friend about how “this piece of chicken don’t look right” or “isn’t quite big enough” , blah blah blah blah. Frequently they will say something to the effect that “I think I’ll just wait here ’till they bring out some fresh chicken.”
Dammit it’s chicken. They aren’t that different. How come you can’t make up your damn mind between a breast, a thigh or a drumstick? You’ve been standing in line for 15 damn minutes! Either choose a piece of chicken or get out of line! We’re starving back here! I don’t have all F-ing day waiting for you to find the perfect piece of fried chicken!
Apologies to John Pinette.