On my drive to work this morning something at Popeye's Louisiana Kitchen caught my eye. It wasn't the succulent golden-fried birds. Or the smattering of delicious sides.
No, it was a sign for their Tuesday special: two pieces of chicken for $1.29.
$1.29 for two pieces of chicken is almost less than nothing. That's an astoundingly low price for sustenance and a week's worth of saturated fat.
Then my mind turned on me and made me think about the chickens that go into $1.29 chicken deal. Not in the Food Inc. sense, rather the thinking what would happen if a chicken found out its leg and thigh were being sold for such a small amount of money. Here's how that played out:
A one legged chicken, Eunice, hobbles past Popeye's one day and gazes up at the sign. She squints her tiny beady eyes, straining to read the sign. Then she opens her beak and shouts.
"129! One dollar and twenty nine cents? Are you kidding me? I mean are you people even serious right now? Can you really be so dense to think this is what my life adds up to? Just shy of six bucks?
This is an affront to me. An affront to my family. Hell, it's an affront to chicken kind! That was my leg! The thing I use for mobility. Now I use this stupid cane and some human gets to gorge himself on my body party for less than a bottle of Coca Cola. Look, I don't mind being used. I don't even mind the idea of being eaten.
My sister's dead but at least those humans had the decency to sell her at Balthazar for 74 bucks! You might as well give away my leg if you're going to insult me like this. At least then I would feel like I became charity rather than some low-rent meat. You all make me sick."
Eunice then spits on the ground, turns on her heel, and continues mumbling to herself as she hobbles down Jefferson street.
This ordeal hasn't made me a vegetarian but I'm never going to get Eunice out of my head whenever I see how cheap chicken is at Popeye's and all fried chicken joints across this great nation.