A Poultry Mishap

[Note: This was originally written on my personal blog, intended to be read only by my friends, so there are a couple of inside-jokes/things other people wouldn't understand. I've explained them at the end, but I didn't want to edit the original to omit them, so if it severely bothers you, don't read.]


The Story of a Kid too Retarded to Eat:

In a futile attempt to spur myself into cleaning my room, I have moved back upstairs, abandoning the Flower Couch and the coffee table in exchange for a bed. It's a somewhat even trade, except that it's nearly exclusively comfortable to lie down on a bed, as opposed to the versatility of a couch, which provides the option of sitting up. Laziness, one of my most prominent qualities, does not agree with the diligence and motivation required to sit up, and you are probably wondering why I would possibly choose to do so. The answer lies in food. Sitting up (preferably with perfect posture, but that is positively preposterous) can actually provide several advantages while one is enjoying a meal. The risk of spilling food on one's torso is greatly reduced, as is the hazard of choking, not to mention the ghastly prospect of accidentally drifting to sleep before the meal is finished. I should have taken all these things into consideration before beginning my dinner tonight, but regrettably, I did not.

I lay down on my bed, with my laptop resting on my legs, and a plate heaping with awesome on my chest. There were at least ten chicken wings piled next to a serving of rice, but the chicken wings were inarguably the pièce de résistance. The wings of the chicken are one of my favorite foods, and I like them slightly burnt, and very crunchy, so when a bite is taken, little papery flecks of the greasily charred outer skin flutter down onto the plate, like snowflakes. Once I got the rice out of the way, it was time to devour the wings. I happily crunched along, savoring my meal as I browsed the various fields of the Internet and chatted with a friend. Soon enough, the chicken wings were a memory of the past, and I set the plate down next to me. I would deal with it later, figuring the same for the sea of chicken crumbs sprinkled across my chest. Little did I know how much this decision would cost me...

My friend and I continued our conversation, which consisted of her telling me the plot of a movie she was watching. Apparently the main characters of the movie had just eaten raw vegetables and ran the risk of catching cholera. This brought us to the topic of food.

Friend: I love vegetables
Me: I don't. I like MEAT *thumps chest*

Striving to be true to my asterisks, I actually did thump my chest, moderately hard, with an open palm. At the time I thought nothing of it, but nanoseconds later, this mere gesture of facetious machismo sent one of the papery chicken remnants launching into the air like a space shuttle, landing right in my eye.

"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" I cried, as the salt-covered, hot sauce-drenched flake of chicken skin swam around in my eye-juice, provoking tidal waves of tears, and even more profanity. My eye burned and stung, and I ran around, ironically like a decapitated chicken, hurling myself half-blindly into the bathroom to pour Dixie cups of water in my eye, swearing and groaning like David Collica* all the while.

I returned to my friend, eye with a lingering pain, but the crumb was removed. I told her what had just happened, and we chuckled and shrugged. I'm still trying to decide whether this is more or less retarded than stepping on the screw last year at Zoe's party.** Either way, I've learned an important lesson: Don't beat your chest to demonstrate how manly you are, if you might have to deal with the pain of getting chicken in your eye.



[*David Collica is a classmate of mine who makes a gruff, gutteral "uuuggghhh" kind of noise when he's frustrated]
[**At a friend's birthday party in 2007, I was running around barefoot and stepped on a rusty screw protruding from her porch, right after I'd told my mom I didn't need to go get a tetanus booster, laughing, "It's not like I'm gonna step on a rusty nail or anything!"]