I protested and protested. No way was I going to end a pleasant evening of perusing art at this year’s River Arts Fest, by a madcap run to Uncle Lou’s Fried Chicken. As if the suggestion to visit a chicken shack on the other side of town wasn’t bad enough, my friends suggested I wash the deep-fried bird down with some Old E. The beer was sure, as they said, to “cut the grease.” Punished for my opposition, I was labeled a meat snob and a beer racist. Wait a minute. Me, a “meat snob”? Beer racist, maybe. But meat snob? Ha! So what, I don’t like souse, and I’ve never eaten potted meat. It’s because I have a fully functioning prefrontal cortex. However, after much grumbling and bemoaning, I yielded to the group’s pressure. They were tough! I was literally arm wrestled into it. By the end of the night my fingers were dripping with red sauce, my gut stuffed with Sweet Spicy Love drumsticks, corn nuggets and yes, Old English. I enjoyed every minute of it. Great suggestion guys!

If you’ve never eaten at Uncle Lou’s Fried Chicken, tsk, tsk, tsk.