They always walked out of these chicken outlets with that little box with a few bones and a few crusted chips.
The reason for this was to tongue-in-cheek say, ‘I can afford this scrumptious chicken and you cannot’. So this divided the town into roughly two groups – those who could buy chicken from the imported outlets and those who ate tough chicken at Christmas. Funny now the tough chicken seems to be the chicken eater’s premium choice.
How situations – and palates - change! When growing up, there was a neighbour who had a dizzying collection of girlfriends. It was a biological miracle that he had produced no children. Whenever he had a new kill, he’d always buy this type of chicken and cause a major war between the neighbourhood dogs – and sometimes children – at the trash bin. So, for a lot of us, our only experience with that type of chicken then was confined to a fight at Mr Loverman’s trash bin. So the neighbourhood dogs and children had developed a way of identifying Mr Loverman’s new kill so that later on they congregate around his trash bin for the customary fight over the bones. Last week my limited pocket pushed me into one of the chicken outlets in the city. My mission was to get a pack of wings. I had two reasons to want to buy them.
Firstly, I am in the cohort that has not recovered from the money-sapping December and I am now at a stage where the Sheriff’s visit is almost inevitable – creditors are tired of my excuses. Secondly, the only thing I could afford was wings, which are usually favourably-priced. I think the person who decides the prices for wings is a regular December victim and has been jaded by this unforgiving month many a time. He is one of us so that makes one feel at home. So when you buy wings, you always get the feeling that despite the profit objectives of business, there’s someone out there who actually cares. To my horror there were no wings. Nothing. Nada. Zilch! My mind couldn’t process it. So what happened to their wings? Anyone who has ever killed a chicken knows it has two wings (wings wings when it comes to chicken outlets).
The nice lady behind the counter suggested a few alternatives which were obviously out of my budget. At this suggestion, my evil head wished she could be slow- roasted in a tanning salon. I suggested that since the only thing I buy at their outlet is wings, they should have a flag that flies at half-mast if there are no wings so we don’t waste our valuable time getting into their shop. She looked at me funny. But I didn’t care! With a stomach that hovered at around eight gigabytes and no chicken wings, it was promising to be one long day. (For comments, feedback and insults email [email protected]) Thulaganyo Jankey is a Rapporteur and training consultant who runs his own training consultancy that provides training in BQA- accredited courses. His other services include registering consultancies with BQA and developing training courses. Contact him on 74447920 or email [email protected]
