They say love can lead to butterflies in the gut. Whoever said that is wrong. Love leads to chest pains, and I have the honor of owning that feeling every week. It wasn't love at first sight that is for sure. There was a lot of her. It was really intimidating, but I knew I was man enough for the challenge that lay before me.
Summoning up enough courage, I approached "my lady," and went for the direct approach. I opened my mouth and took one bite, and I was hooked for life.
Each bite of Ms. Dee's succulent Country Fried Chicken wrap takes me back to a simpler time. It reminds me of days gone by when there were no wars, George Sr. told us to read his lips, and gas was $0.99 a gallon, and oh yes my favorite football team the Miami Dolphins, actually had a QB and at least one stinking victory by December 1.
I just look at her, and can not believe those ten pieces of fried chicken, coated with mozzarella, and bathing in a honey Dijon sauce is all mine. At least once, more likely twice a week, I come for her, at my favorite deli, Dee's Deli. For only $7.90 I get to experience the best feeling in the world.
It's worth every bite of bliss. I know its love, as I struggle for air, and the sharp pains radiating from my chest let me know everything I need. As I get halfway through the mounds of chicken I know I should walk away, but she's inside my head, and I know I can't disappoint. I must finish what I started.
Despite the intense nausea that follows I have no regrets. Love is a sacrifice, and who cares if each bite shortens my life expectancy. I know one thing. I can't live without her.
My doctor thinks she's bad for me, kinda unhealthy, but I've never been happier.
As I write this I'm missing her. I think its time for another Country Fried Chicken wrap from the world's best deli, Dee's Deli, on New Haven Avenue in Milford. I'm powerless.