Diesel and Cayenne
The first decade of my life was shaped by the customs and traditions unique to the city of New Orleans. My formative primary years were influenced by the smell of diesel fuel at Mardi Gras parades, public displays of drunkeness in the French Quarter, gulf coast seafood, coon-asses, gumbo, voo-doo, plantation homes, the River Road, and the mighty Mississippi. If people every scratch their heads and wonder why I am the way I am, I point to two people and one city. Everytime I smell diesel fuel and feel the shudder of a big truck engine, I am immediately transported to Mardi Gras day and "Throw me something, Mister." Besides the sweet smell of exhaust, there is one other thing that makes me think Mardi Gras, my childhood, and how much I miss the South: Popeye's Fried Chicken. Popeye's chicken was (and as far as I know still is) the required food to have on hand at all Mardi Gras parades. The bright orange and yellow box full of greasy, spicy goodness tastes good either hot or cold, and is the perfect item to have on hand as one is drinking a cold beer and watching a parade. When we moved to California, I resigned myself to a Popeye's withdrawal, along with Cracker Barrel and Sonic.
I learned big news this week. There are THREE Popeye's chicken restaurants within a TWENTY MINUTE drive from my house. I discovered this when I noticed a co-worker had a little hot sauce packet emblazoned with the familar logo in an outside pocket of her lunch box. "Where is there a Popeye's?" I immediately wanted to know. She and several other co-workerd happily shared with me directions to the nearest one. I possessed enough self-restraint to not immediately run out, buy, and devour a sixteen piece family meal, but I have been thinking about it all week long. It was the first piece of news I shared with The Rev. after I got home from work that night. My response to his "How was your day?" was "Did you know there are THREE Popeye's restaurants within 20 minutes of our house? GET IN THE CAR!"
The Rev. managed to talk me down, but I have been thinking about spicy fried chicken all week long.
Life in California just got exponentially better.
I learned big news this week. There are THREE Popeye's chicken restaurants within a TWENTY MINUTE drive from my house. I discovered this when I noticed a co-worker had a little hot sauce packet emblazoned with the familar logo in an outside pocket of her lunch box. "Where is there a Popeye's?" I immediately wanted to know. She and several other co-workerd happily shared with me directions to the nearest one. I possessed enough self-restraint to not immediately run out, buy, and devour a sixteen piece family meal, but I have been thinking about it all week long. It was the first piece of news I shared with The Rev. after I got home from work that night. My response to his "How was your day?" was "Did you know there are THREE Popeye's restaurants within 20 minutes of our house? GET IN THE CAR!"
The Rev. managed to talk me down, but I have been thinking about spicy fried chicken all week long.
Life in California just got exponentially better.
posted by pastorschick at
8:35 PM
1 Comments:
Alas, if only pastorschick had lamented the lack of Popeye's (or what she thought was the lack of Popeyes) in her geographical area sooner, I could have alerted her to several locations....let this be a lesson never to try to be tactful, or in any way less than straight up with ones thoughts. Gripe, grumble & complain says I....it produces results. Another lesson learned here, being discreetly DOES have its benefits, openly staring at and then verbalizing about a packet of Popeye's condiments can change ones life. You go girl, and order the spicy for all we former NOLA residents.....you LIKED the smell of diesel at the parades ??
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