I don't understand the appeal of chicken wings.
It's part of the chicken of with the least amount of meat and then people go and dip it into fiery sauces and consume them in massive amounts. And I've never gotten it. I remember waiting tables and people coming in to look for the damn things and going "and I want them as hot as you can make them."
Normally, we didn't oblige because it's bad for business when you kill your customers. But one evening four drunks came walking into this place I worked in Churchill Square in St. John's. They came in 10 minutes before closing and demanded the hottest wings we could possible conjure. And seeing as how both myself and the cook wanted to go home and not spend all evening catering to four drunks with an intestinal death wish, he conjured up something evil. I have no idea what it was, but it wasn't simply hot sauce. There was jalapenos and cayenne peppers and some other stuff mixed in there. My eyes were literally watering as I bought it out to the table.
The poor dumb bastard ate about two, maybe three each, and then asked for the rest to be boxed up so they could take them home. That was after they each drank a jug of water.
So yeah, part of me understands that it's a macho bastard thing. And yeah, I know there are more seasonings you can put on wings that just rectal volcano flavours (part of me felt bad about the damage we did to those poor bastards digestive tracks). But I still don't get the fascination people have with wing's night. Wednesday night up here is probably the biggest night of the week because everyone is going out to either the Storehouse or the Legion for wings.
Yeah, I know it's a social thing and an excuse to go drinking. By why not nachos night? Or fries night? Why wings? Can someone explain to me the enduring appeal of wings? Because after 20 years, I'm still not getting it.
1. Don't stop - Chilliwack
2. Devils and dust - Bruce Springsteen
3. On a slow night - Metric
4. Shit song - Kate Nash
5. Blackbird - The Beatles