Leftover chicken

"You were on the edge when you were younger Donald." said Mr. C. "Well,.." I started to wonder if being on the edge had a different meaning from generation to generation,.. "Admit it Donald!" he went on to insist.. Well I guess you might look at it that way.. Mr. C. being one of the only people to call me Donald.

You know that chicken you get in the grocery store? They cook two kinds baked and fried. The fried kind has this golden brown breading on it. 8 piece.. and they grab it with tongs and put it in a paper box. When they grab, I count. Could be doing the slide of hand as they move pieces around to get you the right eight.. Plus what if they give you one drumstick and three thighs?! That would just be wrong, and under that breading how can you really know?

If they were to segregate the chicken when they cooked it instead of when they served it, they could save time I thought, and much more of the breading would stay on the chicken.. After the first day if they don't sell it they put it on a black plastic tray with plastic wrap and sell it cold. It starts to become less golden and more brown. And it would be one thing if they lowered the price after the first day, and I guess they do a little, but if you ask me it's worth paying more for first day chicken unless you like your grease dry..

Who doesn't own a swim suit?.. Isn't that a little dysfunctional? I thought as we looked around her apartment complex. I wanted to get in the hot tub with this girl, and she really was on the edge, unlike me of course..Plus she had a great body, perhaps a swim suit was a little to square for her?.. "I can wear some shorts" she said. Shorts and a T shirt. She really was pretty, but she could be really ugly too. She had a problem I never fully understood. When she was straight she was sweet and hot, kind of like that mustard,.. but when she was messed up she was like split pea soup, the little girl in the Exorcist. The contrast was hard to imagine. One moment she would straighening my collar and tell me how nice I looked, and the next moment she was barfing pea soup and her head was spinning around 360 degrees. (not sure how many degrees in Celcius)

I pulled off the highway at night and drove into a small town to get some things at the grocery store. As I walked up to the store all of the people seemed edgy to me. But then I thought, I'm one of the edgy people too. We are all edgy at this store or we wouldn't be doing our shopping this time of night. After I got my things I went up to the counter to pay. Behind me in line came this woman. A woman from my past. I glanced at her. Is that her? I asked myself.. It is. It has to be. She glanced at me but we both did a good job of not noticing eachother.

She had a package of leftover chicken on a black plastic tray, the golden breading shrivled and brown. She could just throw that in the toilet when she got home I thought. It could save a lot of effort. "They have a good deal on soup" I wanted to say..