I stopped at the Stinker store yesterday to get gas after running my hiney all over town pricing appliances. Sheesh, that sucked.
As I was getting gas, I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day and I was hungry. So I went inside thinking I'd get one of those delicious hot dogs that roll around on those rolley things for gob-only-knows-how-long before some stupid sucker like me buys it.
Then, I noticed the counter with chicken in it and it reminded me of something Elmer had said not too long ago. We had stopped at the Stinker store and he mentioned that they sell "Chester's Chicken" and how good it is. Then he said something that even I couldn't believe came out of his mouth.
"We'll have to come here for dinner some time."
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.
My dear, sweet husband, to whom I've been wed for 25 years, wants to take me to the friggin' Stinker store for Chester's Chicken for dinner some time. They don't even have a table in the Stinker store. I guess we'd sit in the truck by the gas pumps and dine.
I looked at their website and they call it "chicken on the fly." I'm one lucky gal don't ya think?