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That’s my kind of chicken

Deb - Bamboo 8

One day while I was staring at an ugly root vegetable at the veggie stand, a woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I wanted a chicken. Thinking of the delicious rotisserie chicken—the local fast-food option—I said, “Yes. Oh, wait. Is it cooked?” 

“Senora, it isn’t even dead,” she said. 

The leap from pot to pet would be made in record time if I took home a live chicken.  Instead, I got my chicken at another local shop ready to cook. 


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