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A Day in the Life
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HANGOVER HUNGRIES
ARTICLE BY YAWNY ALANNI
Last month was my 23rd birthday, which didn’t really mean a whole lot except I was legitimately allowed to get my drink on for a fantastical ten day run. Naturally, for the three days that fell around the big day I went on the fun-filled ride that is a tequila binge, which we’ll refer to as Tres Tormentas. The light wind and rain started on Tuesday with Patron mexican martini’s at Spiderhouse, which caused an especially drizzly day at work the next morning. Wednesday was an evening of friends, laughter and Trudy’s margarita which left me surprisingly rejuvenated.
Ah, then my day came. The day of days where one doesn’t pay a cent and gets completely shithoused.
Let me interject that I had to be at work by 8:30 am to enrich the lives of children for eight hours every single one of those days.
So, Thursday after work I immediately headed over to a pool to share a six of tall boys with a friend. Dinner was skipped, as there just wasn’t enough time. I rallied up some good company and headed over to Polvo’s for drinks and snacks. Now, just to fill you in on Polvo’s margarita’s- if you don’t already know, they’re fucking crazy. Alls I know is my good friend and neighbor ordered some ceviche and two pitchers, and I did all I could to finish one of those on my own. I’m also Asian, so you know I’m missing an enzyme and get shitty quicker than you other folk. Needless to say, the birthday was a rousing success. I vaguely recall singing some Prince as my friend drove me home, then I swiftly passed out once I made it to my safe zone (my bed).
Three hours later, the fucking storm began. Tres Tormentas finally caught up with me and I was violently awakened by my body’s hatred for me, and that hate was on its way out. Let me tell you, ceviche and booze is an awful, awful idea. I was still working the hate out in the toilet bowl when it came time for me to head to work, so I called in and they let me know that I had until 11 to get myself together before I had to come in. I thanked them for the belated birthday present. So, I drank some water and ate some crackers in the hope that I’d be ready for my day to begin three hours later.
At 11, I pulled up my trousers and marched in there and did my best to get as many high fives as I could from the little dudes in my class. On my lunch break, I went and visited a friend who lives near my workplace, and on my way back I felt as though I could finally handle some adult food. And what catches my eye?
Church’s motherfucking Chicken. Sadly, the particular Church’s (North Burnet) I encountered has no drive-thru, so I had no choice but to go inside. Once inside, I walked into a standing area about 5 feet wide and maybe 15 feet long. Not nearly enough space for the six people waiting in there with me. Plus, there’s no indoor seating, which is strange because I’m fairly certain they recently closed up shop for remodeling. When I was a kid, I used to go to Church’s every Sunday while I was visiting my dad and get a number 4 (a honey butter biscuit, 4 chicken tenders, a tub of gravy, and fries). Even back then, I knew what good was. So it’s my natural inclination to order this most comfortable of comfort foods, and it’s the Church’s Chicken staff’s natural reaction to fuck it up. I ended up driving off with two impressively greasy chicken breasts, a wing, and- the glorious savior of the meal- the biscuit. I don’t know if you’ve ever had one of Church’s honey butter biscuits, but they are probably the best biscuits you can buy at a fast food joint. And three for a dollar!
My body was so ready for some protein that I scarfed that shit down on my 10 minute drive back to work. By the time I got there, only the bones were left and there was a thin layer of grease all over my chin. The actual chicken is really moist, compared to other fast food fried chicken. Hey, I know what good is. All in all, I was completely disgusted with myself but it was honestly one of the most nourishing things I’ve ever had in my whole life. I rocked all the way until 5:30 and even made it out to Barfly’s that night. It’s not something I would recommend by any means, but that fried goodness definitely calmed the storm that nearly destroyed me.