Chicken Fingers

Los Angeles, California

There is a restaurant space near by home which has housed a lot of different restaurants. Back in the '80s it was what we used to call a coffee shop, which was named Pages. It shared a parking lot with Jane Fonda's Workout, and became a popular place to go after morning workouts. Once, after eating breakfast with two friends from class, a group of teachers walked by our table and we started throwing our buttered toast and bacon onto each other's plates so we wouldn't get caught eating fat after a workout. Ah, youth...

I don't remember what the restaurant housed before Pages, but afterwards it was another coffee shop. And then a popular barbecue chain, Tony Roma's, which it remained for a long time. During the pandemic and after a long construction, the building was painted orange and opened as another coffee shop/diner, Norm's. Norm's is famous in Los Angeles but couldn't cut it at that time in this neighborhood. Recently, rehabbing began again and a sign went up: Raising Cane's Chicken Fingers.

Now, I'm not taking that 'fingers' thing literally. I've seen this restaurant before in a neighboring community, and the chicken thing is going strong: Popeyes, Chick fil-A. Dave's Hot Chicken (that one is pretty good). So the appearance of a chicken finger joint shouldn't raise any cain (get it? Hah!). However, it has.

I do not indulge in any social media. If I made a list of the ten things I am most  proud of in my life, that would come in, let's see, probably around five. No Facebook. No Twitter, no X (yeah, I know, that's the same thing). But a neighbor suggested I get onto Next Door. Hated it. But recently, when there was a lot of helicopter commotion in the neighborhood, I decided to log on. And there was a string of indignant uproar about the chicken finger restaurant opening in the neighborhood. The most virulent complainer was a man. Named Karen. And I am kidding. I have a good friend named Karen who is the least Karen-like of anyone I know.

The complaint was against fast food. It's chicken, for God's sake. Not even the other white meat but the actual white meat we compare the other one to! Where does all this righteous virtue-signaling come from? It makes me tired.

And the new kid on the block is alcohol. Whether this is tied to a recent study which proffered that no amount of alcohol is good for you or just the newest of influencer trends, I don't know. Nor care. This reminds me a bit of Butch and Sundance poised on a cliffside with the posse closing in. Sundance is afraid to take the long jump into the river because he doesn't know how to swim. Butch laughs and admonishes: The fall'll probably kill you! We live in Los Angeles. I don't know the odds, but I'm thinking that our chances of dying on the road or freeway is probably greater than having a glass of wine each night. Or eating chicken fingers. What a world; what a world.