I also hate it because I know it will eventually kill me. Now that there’s one at the Detroit airport, I have to be vigilant because as much as I love it, I work hard at not eating it. The closest one to our home in Ann Arbor is at a truck stop which we rarely pass. It is harder in New Jersey: There are ten within seven miles of my parents’ house.
A friend of mine has a similar love/hate relationship with Chick-fil-la. A bad influence, I convinced her to take me to one. I’ll admit that it was tasty while we ate it and we had a similar, um, not so good feeling later.
For the sake of my dear Popeye’s, I’ll add that the chicken at Popeye’s has a thicker, crispier coating of batter that can be ordered spicier. Yes, those are fighting words. I bet no one else wants to do a taste test to see if I’m right. For my own sake, I will return to eating fast food, fried or otherwise, once or twice a year.
