Damn, he was in a rush again. Why did he do this to himself?
A glance at the kitchen clock confirmed he was running late. What followed was a mad search for his wallet, watch, smartphone and backpack so he could leave for work. At the last second he realized he needed a lunch. The left-over chicken from Saturday would do the trick. He opened the fridge, grabbed a big, handful of chicken out of the bowl and tossed it in some plastic-ware. He dashed out the door with minutes to spare to catch the train.
Later at work, he settled down to lunch at a table in the break room. Opening up the plastic, he eyeballed the bland, chicken tossed in there. His friends were debating how many about Spaghetti Westerns Clint Eastwood starred in back in the sixties as he noshed on his tasteless lunch.
“O.K., there’s The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. And there’s For a Few Dollrs More. But what’s the name of the first one?”
Silence. He looked up from his sad lunch.
“A Fistful of Chicken, ” he replied.
The millienials took him seriously.
copyright 2018 Christopher Donahue