The Chicken Caper
We are honest and good people. Unless we're buying chicken breasts that happen to be on sale. Then, watch out. No holds barred is how we roll. We don't like following senseless rules made by big ass organizations, especially when it limits one's poultry purchasing capabilities. A limit of two packages per family, the sign said. Two measly packages. We'll see about that. We'll show those big guys who's really boss in this town. We form a posse, Mr. Handsome up in front, me behind him holding Dee's hand, Em bringing up the rear. All the while, our eyes do not meet, nor do we speak. We are alone in this endeavour. All alone. And yet, a team. It's poetic. Mr. Handsome picks out two choice packages of chicken breasts. Skinless. Boneless. Priceless. He turns, does not acknowledge my existence, and quickly starts making his way to the cash at the front of the store. Now, it's my turn. A smile forms as I watch Mr. Handsome leave, not sure I can believe what...