I remember the first chicken sandwich I ate. It was a life changing event.
Up until high school, I was extremely picky with my taste in cuisine. I think i just ate steak, mashed potatos, and lettuce for the first 15 years of my life. But then….something happened. I was working at the Commerce Bank. I was in the drive through area, working with one other teller, and we decided to order lunch, her name might have been Janine, it might have been Xena, I dont really remember. Anyway, she says, “get me a chicken sandwich with lettuce and mayo” i was like “Holy Crap, I need to eat that” and the rest as they say, is history. But there is a further point to this story. I believe I have found THE GREATEST chicken sandwich in the history of this fair planet. And yes darlings, it comes from Washington Township New Jersey. There is this intense italian deli, a very small place, with a wonderful selection of traditional Italian foods, the calzone, the parmiganaaaa (extreme accent) the moooootzalellllaaaa (even more extreme accent, which i will get to later) but lying next to all those things, is a plate of Chicken Cutlets, which look very similar to what I imagine pure happiness to look like.
I order one with the lettuce mayo combo, and they always look at me funny. Its like “Hey jackass, we have a multitude of traditional and exotic cuisine here, and you get a frikkin chicken sandwich???” I dont care what they say, I love it. I wish I were eating one right now…..
This leads me to a similar point. Myself and the T bone were out recently. We returned on the PATH train at a late hour, and found some entertainment at the World Trade Center station. This is not uncommon, as many a drunken frat guy/guido/hipster often make a spectacular idiot out of themselves. This case was interesting, as it presented conflicting views and levels of self humiliation (does that make sense? I dont even care….shut up). So, there is a drunk girl and two drunk guys with spiky hair, one less intoxicated than the other. This is how the conversation went
Girl: “Shut Up, youre not italian! How do you say that thing thats fried squid”
Guy 1: “Calamaaaaaaaaaah, yeah, thats right!”
Guy 2: Would ya both shut da hell up? Peopla aah lookin at you like yous a buncha frikkin mo-rahns”
Guy 1: “Hey, Shut it, how do you say that cheese that they make into string cheese”
Guy 2: “Oh Dear God Shut Up”
Girl: “Mooootzalellllllllaaaaaaa, you always say it wrong! its not Motzarella!”
New Girl (Passed out on the bench behind who has just woken up): “Would ya shut the fuck up? Ya Discrasin the italian people! Both my parents aah 100% italian and ya sayin everything wrong!”
New Girls Boyfriend: “Hey, People are allowed to say what they want, please be quiet, everyone is looking at you”
Guy 1: “Hey, bitch, we havin our own conversation heeeaaa, just back offf ok?”
At which point the train showed up, and the entertainment ended for the evening. Now, I have nothing against any ethnicity, I love all foods and all people equally. But with this Frikkin Italian Pride shit, its enough already. You probably know 6 words in Italian, and you probably learned 5 of those from The Sopranos. Gumaaah, Stugatz, Scungili, thats about it. Once, someone brought up a point to me. People are like “I’m Irish/ I’m Italian” but have you ever been to Ireland or Italy? No, you havent. Youre a fucking american, so shut the hell up. Capice???