The Lonely Chicken

By • Nov 18th, 2010 • Category: Features

This article was meant to be published yesterday but apparently the internets in Uganda had a fight with the internets in America over who should be the sole supplier of porn, blah blah blah. Long story. But here it is. The article, I mean.

I spent Idd with a piece of chicken. Not because this weirdly pretty waitress (are waitresses supposed to be pretty?) had graciously placed it in front of me, but because it was a lonely piece of chicken. Judging by the absence of other pieces of chicken, I knew it had no family.

And that’s why I decided to write this; to take you into the gruesome world of one lonely chicken.

See, the first time I laid eyes on it, it was pity at first sight. The only friends it had were a few dull salads and maybe an introvert glass of Pepsi that mostly preferred to keep away from the rest of the bunch.

The first time I looked at the piece of chicken, I sat back and thought to myself: “How rude of this thing to keep staring at me like this. Is it mocking me?” Then I prayed to God to give me appetite so I could teach it a manner or two.

But then I looked deeper into its eyes and saw something much much more heartbreaking; something that only a dedicated chicken empathizer like me could fathom. You just had to bring out the chicken in you to understand what this piece of chicken was going through.

It was a wing. And you know how people the world over generally prefer thighs to wings. I almost asked the weirdly pretty waitress to take it back and bring me a thigh but then thought about the hurt I’d cause this little lonely wing. Right now I was its only friend.

I could feel it yearning to be loved, hear its soul crying out to my stomach to let it be a part of my intestinal family. All it wanted was to be held and cuddled ever so delicately like it was needed. To be given a home in my duodenum like all its other piece-of-chicken brothers. I could even hear it speak. Literally. It was asking if there was anything else I wanted. Oh wait, that was the waitress. I quickly said no and frowned at her for interrupting my chicken wing moment.

I looked back down at the chicken and decided to fulfill its wishes. I picked up the knife and fork but changed my mind. It deserved more noble treatment. I lay down the cutlery, picked up my hands, respectfully grabbed the chicken wing and caressed it with my teeth. I gave it a home in my stomach.

Legendary boys and girls, I’m pleased to announce that I did something righteous on a very holy day (Allah bless me). You what did you do?

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  • Sleek

    Erique is? WTH? WTH?