The Chicken Salad Years and other random realities

I tried chicken salad for the first time sometime during my youth. Whoever made it put apples and raisins and nuts in it. It was like some poultry dessert. I hated it so I swore off chicken salad (with all suppologies to my fine, feathered friends).

But something happened recently. I can’t quite say what it is. I spent years–decades–thinking chicken salad was sweet and full of fruit chunks.

Guess what? It’s not.

I’ve been on a Greenville, SC chicken sald tour for the last month. I rarely eat anything but the creamy poultry lunch. I’m hooked and right now stuffed with chicken.

The Bachelor (Blank) Night turned out badly.

Instead of putting names in a hat, we drew cards after a monster game of Euchre. The nine of spades got to be the bachelor. After some argument and a re-draw, my friend Todd (a true-to-life bachelor) became the Bachelor for the Night.

The problem…for about an hour before the draw, I had been acting like the party was for me.

In short, I acted like a college freshman Saturday night and embarassed myself. The Bachelor ended up making sure I didn’t get arrested or killed.

It’s time I start acting like an adult.

Except for maybe LEAF weekend.