A guy walks into Popeyes on his lunch break at noon and orders a bucket o' chicken.
Translation: "Oh hi, Boss. Don't worry about me today. Callin' it a day at noon!"
I work in Downtown Oakland close to City Center. I often walk through the City Center Square where, reliably, there is an ant-farm of people scattered about during the lunch hour. In City Center there are ten to twenty restaurants/lunch delis. They're all pretty generic spots, mostly chains. There's Quiznos, Starbucks, Baja Fresh, some family owned delis, and then... there's Popeyes.
In passing through the Square on my way to the gym for a quick swim or to grab a quick bite, I always notice that there's always a good amount of people inside each restaurant. The line at most places is about 4 to 5 at most.
But Popeyes. Man, it's a whole different beast. The line bursts from the doors and squiggles out along the side of the restaurant (can I really call it a restaurant?!). This always amazes me. People from all walks of life, poring out the door in their suits, waiting for that huge bucket o' greasy chicken to set their day straight.
I don't know how they do this. I'm not judging. I mean, I know how they can eat it - the smell is always enticing. I honestly just don't know how they do it. How do these people go back to work for the next 4-5 hours after taking a face-first plunge into the bucket o' chick? How do they do they do it?
For me, I'd probably be more productive if I knocked down a twelve-pack of brew than if I took down 12 greasy wings. I'd feel more hung-over and drunk from the chicken than the alcohol. My stomach would experience a TKO via Chick. My forehead would be sweating out deep-fried grease for the rest of the afternoon. I'd pass out within twenty minutes.
Staying awake, productive, and not in the bathroom for the rest of the afternoon after eating Popeyes should be the next triathlon I attempt.
How do they do they do it?
It's one of the great mysteries of the world.
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