One of my favorite things to do in life is spend time with my husband.  I had forgotten about a funny experience that happened to us a couple of months ago until I read a friends (Thanks, Theresa) blog regarding chicken.  Just thought I’d share…and since I know my favoritest person in the world checks up on my blogs, Michael, this one’s for you.

We were on a road trip to Alabama and were driving straight through to our destination (to see you, Sarah Jolley Warren).  To make the drive faster, we stopped to get gas in some random city in Alabama. We figured we’d save time and get some chicken at the Church’s Chicken that was adjoined to the gas station.  Our first clue should have been the fact that the Church’s signs on the inside of the store were covered in tape and it was obvious they were going through a transition.

We got to the register and the employee asked what we wanted.  While ordering, she had no clue how to key in the order and asked for help.  Our ordering went something like this- (Names are made up to protect the innocent/dumb.)  Please read this OUT LOUD with the most southern twang you can muster when reading the part of Ethel Mae to get an accurate rendition of this story.

The time, which is important to remember in this story is 7:00 p.m, nowhere near closing, and still around supper time for a majority of Americans.

Michael:  I’d like the 3 piece Meal Deal, please. 
Ethel Mae: Oh, we don’t have any chicken breast left for that, we only have wings and drumsticks.  That okaaaaaaaaay?
Michael: Sure, that’s fine. Can I substitute the biscuits for a side of okra, though? (Side Note: I hadn’t had okra since I was a young girl and remembered that I hated it…so I wanted to see if that’s changed.  It hasn’t, though I no longer HATE them.)
Ethel Mae:  I’m sorry we can’t do that.  We don’t have any biscuits to go with your meal anymore…ya’ see we’re changing over from Church’s Chicken to a Chicken Tender Express….  We now serve rolls (as she pointed to the package of rolls beside the chicken, which coincidentally were the nastiest, closest-thing-to-leather I’ve ever eaten).
Michael: Okay then.  Can I just order a side of okra?
Ethel Mae: (yelling to the back):  Do you think we can fry up a side of okra? Okay, I’ll hook you up. (After the cook/man in back, who appears to be shutting things down for the night, mumbles in agreement.)

Michael leaves to go the bathroom.  Meanwhile the lady attempts to fulfill the order but spends half her time with her back towards me, leaning back over register as far as possible, staring at the menu to see what is included in our order.  I help poor Ethel Mae out by reciting from the menu what is included.  She hands me the first part of the order and tells me my okra will be out shortly.  Michael returns, and so does our “side of okra” that she brings out– It was definitely enough to feed an army of okra lovers during a world famine.  I don’t think she’d ever made a “side” of anything before.

Next person comes in to order.

Man: I’d like a 10 piece Meal Deal, please.
Ethel Mae: Oh, we only have Niiiiiine pieces left.  How ’bout I throw in a side of baaaaaaked beans and we’ll call it a deal?
Man (said very quizzically): OKAY??????…

Michael and I had a great laugh at this.  You see, this now leaves them chickenless–at seven o’clock with just sides left and no hopes to cook any more.  As we were leaving, another lady was coming in.  Bless the poor soul.  Shame to think about how many side-order substitutions she would have to receive, seeing that it was 7:00, there was no chicken left, and they weren’t planning on cooking any more for the evening.  We quickly and easily made assumptions as to why they were no longer a Church’s, as we scurried out the door before it was possible to hear the next poor lady order.  It would have been fun to stick around and watch, actually, but we had wasted enough time off the road.   Thanks, Chicken Tender Express for making our meal memorable! 

Of course, my wild imagination led me to think that maybe it was an under cover drug operation or some cover-up for some illegal activity goin’ on…something just didn’t add up.

I only wish I were kidding.