Sometimes I find myself with a weird-scenario subtask burbling in the back of my brain. Perhaps it's because I'm an engineer - I'm always crunching various problems of priorities in the back of my mind. Perhaps it's because I'm a girl - we day dream quite a bit. Perhaps it's because I'm me - and anything that isn't semi-rehearsed often ends with my foot firmly planted in my mouth. Regardless, today I realized that Kentucky Fried Chicken is not a good date option. There is no way you can order a meal aside from "I'll take a number 3, thanks," without sounding just awful.
- Would you like thighs, legs, or breasts? Yeah. Like there isn't innuendo in that one.
- Light meat or dark meat? Politically incorrect.
- Do you want a side-dish? Sounds like you might be voicing insecurities about somebody on the side.
- Cole Slaw? Dirty by definition.
- Not to mention anyone who considers a venue featuring the word "Fried" is really slumming it.
It's just best to give up before you start and order pizza.
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