Fuck Bones

It’s lunchtime and I am loving life. I mean absolutely LOVING life, I recently found out I was accepted into a job I had my eyes set on and I had chicken for lunch. Nothing and I mean nothing could ever and I mean EVER rain on my parade when there is chicken involved, especially juicy succulent breast fillet chicken covered in Golden Honey mustard sauce, laying on a bed of spinach and steamed rice. I eat this because I am fancy and poor.

I was reading this article about a Japanese dentist who specialized in crooked teeth, not fixing them but making them, apparently it’s the current craze of Japan. Go figure. At least they save on their dental plans, without the need for braces and such. Upon reading this my mind started thinking about my teeth, they weren’t perfect but I liked them. As I pondered various dental applications I chewed my delicious chicken meal. It was all fine and dandy till I felt a crunch. Crunch? Cooked chicken breast didn’t go crunch, it made squelch noises.

My overly paranoid mind went into overdrive, I assumed it was a tooth, I assumed I had somehow dislodged an entire tooth and had crunched it into oblivion with one almighty bite.

I oh so classy like reached into my mouth and pulled out what I had feared would be a broken tooth. It wasn’t, it was a chicken bone. A fucking chicken bone in MY food.

I was not amused, I spent the rest of my time jabbing my chicken and squishing it against the clear plastic prison in which it was imprisoned, ensuring that it wasn’t hiding any other super death traps of bones I could have swallowed. Brutally stabbing cooked dead animals, it’s serious business.

Before I knew it, lunch time was over and rather than spending the time relaxing and eating I had spent it jabbing and squishing. I looked down at my now less than

Appetizing meal feeling rightly foolish. I gave a sigh and went to leave the lunch bench but was stopped by a voice next to me, annoyed business man, that’s right the same annoyed business man from the Subway line apparently worked on my floor. He gave an uneasy laugh before an attempt of a joke to break the apparent ice he had encased himself into. “wasn’t it dead enough for you?” He laughs and goes back to his paper, thinking he had made a funny. Silly business man. I stood there, trying to think of something clever to say, unfortunately the 5 second prime of a glorious retort had passed. I suppose that five seconds was closer to five minutes, as I didn’t realize how long I had been standing looking at his back till another had come up and asked if I was alright. I muttered words of assurance before walking off to dispose of my chicken mess.

I don’t know how to end this so here is a picture of the chicken.