Chicken Wings and Rednecks

Supper (remember, it was the last supper, not the last dinner) last night was essential man food of beer and wings.

There is a little redneck place across from me that is a wing joint and bar packed with the most colorful rednecks.

Rednecks are truly a different race of white people.

I sat at the bar while the guy beside me ate a pound of crab legs, a cheese burger, a baked potato and some peel and eat shrimp. It was so much food that he had to take a bathroom break.

A lovely young woman across the bar in a sun dress and a barbed wire tattoo around her upper arm was so drunk that she kept falling asleep while sitting up. Her head would nod and she would wake up, talk, take a sip of wine and doze off.

I ordered some medium hot wings and some Caribbean style wings. I have been to the Caribbean many times and I still don’t know what Caribbean chicken is all about or how it differentiates itself from North American chicken. Hell, I ate wings in the Caribbean at the last Super Bowl and got sick. My gullet seized up for some reason and I had to walk away and gag on the beach.

When I order wings I play along and get blue cheese dressing with my celery. What the hell is celery doing in this picture? Why not apple slices?

Celery in my book does not pair well with spicy wings. Same for mint jelly and lamb, “No thank you, I’ll take peach preserves with my steak.”

Oh, how about a big old glass of milk with your water melon?