(Well, my traffic actually has increased today…)

Still experiencing hyperventilating, nauseous anxiety/sadness. But now for a moment of levity.

I felt like pizza for dinner, but I wasn’t in the mood to cook plus I actually wanted thin crust, so I ordered out (I normally prefer medium-to-thick, nor do I have the patience to stretch dough out that thin). While reading the menu, I also realized I wanted some wings.

Now, I am not stupid. I certainly do NOT order what New England seems to think are “Buffalo wings.”

But the place I was ordering from listed other varieties as well – BBQ, garlic, teriyaki, etc. And plain!

Confession – while I certainly have appreciation for wings, I’m not that big a fan of hot, spicy food. I’ll eat hot wings now, but for years even mild wings were too hot for me. So there happens to be a special place in my heart for plain chicken wings.

So when I saw plain chicken wings on the menu, I added them to my order. I figured, how can they screw it up? You throw chicken wings in a fryer, you drain them, you put them in a delivery box.

I should have known something was up when they were delivered in a round aluminium take-out dish with a tagboard cover, like you get with Italian take-out.  In my book, wings come in a cardboard box lined with wax paper and foil, and the celery wrapped separately so it stays somewhat fresh.

Oh, yeah – no celery.

They threw in a cup of ranch dressing. Actually, this didn’t throw me off, really, because I’ve long stopped trying to explain that ranch dressing is not an acceptable accompaniment (it’s bleu cheese or nothing). As Toby told me when I complained to him about it, “pearls before swine.”

And I opened the container.


(I also accidentally ordered my pizza with alfredo sauce instead of tomato sauce. I lived, but really…couldn’t get anything right today…)