Popeye's Chicken

I was watching TV today, and all of a sudden, out of like fucking nowhere, a sassy, fast-talking, quirky-almost black lady comes onto my screen. My first thought was "um, do you know someone here? Because we kind of have a tight budget of oxygen in here..." but then I realized she was just in the tv. Breathing a sigh of relief and unbuttoning my back wallet pocket, I leaned in and listened to her preach to me the benefits of chicken, including the low price, and, of course, the tastiness. Oh God the tastiness.

But then I glanced in the mirror and noticed my skin, specifically its color. I'm white, I thought to myself. Goddamnit is that awesome, but surely a cracker like me could never appreciate chicken, or for that matter, watermelon, Newport cigarettes, or letting my children play out in the lawn by themselves with broken glass everywhere.

I went back to filing my taxes 11 months early, but I couldn't get the chicken off my mind. Surely white people should be able to eat and enjoy chicken, right? It seems like something white people would like more than black people. Chicken. I don't know, to me it just seems so white. But yet, there it was, taunting me. You can't eat me, you fucking honkey, it whispered to me in its menacing snicker. Fuck you, chicken, you can't tell me what to do get a fucking job you fucking prick, I retorted back. But the chicken just laughed louder and more menacing-like. No matter what I said or did, it always amused chicken. Chicken loved to pity me. Chicken got off on pitying me.

But this black lady was slightly encouraging. Although she scared the living fuck out of me (I locked my door that night, and for many nights after), she was also seemingly inviting me, the viewer, there to the warm recesses of Popeye's, regardless of my skin color, black, white, or...mexican.

In the commercial, she had yelled "get yo family and come on down to Popeye's." Was that a threat? Like, get yo family together and come on over to Popeye's 'fore I put a boot in your ass, you white motherfucker? Or was it like, round up your family and mosey on down to Popeye's, home of delicious, fresh, price-aware food?

As I sat there, dumbfounded and awestruck by the commercial, thousands of thoughts swirled around in my head. I've never been to Popeye's Chicken before. If I go there, will I be chastised for my milky white skin? Will my high IQ be the subject of jokes and criticism? Will I be lynched?

Ultimately, I ended up staying home and making a Croissant Crust Sausage, Egg & Cheese Hot Pocket. It was for the best, really.