The Great Albanian Chicken Massacre
Funny story: We went up to the grocery store to pick up a few things. On the way, we came across the rotisserie chicken stand we sometimes see. Today, a friendly-looking lady was cooking chickens. They smelled SO good, and they looked gorgeous.
We told her we'd stop back after our market run. I doubt she understood us because she looked sad, like she thought we weren't going to buy any.
We walked on and added salad to our list so we could make chicken salad with fresh veggies and a nice dressing for lunch!
On the way back, sure enough, we stopped for two chickens. They came off the spit golden, with crispy skin and tender-looking meat. We were almost visibly drooling. The lady seemed delighted to see us, and we paid 500 lek apiece.
I could see just by Devante's body language, and mine as well, that we were going straight home. There would be no stopping for vegetables. The urgency of our walk had shifted. We had a new focus.
We got home, went up the elevator, and barely put our things down before tearing into that chicken.
We stood at the counter, peeled back the tinfoil, and began our attack. There were no words spoken between us, only the carnal devastation of this chicken little. It was like we'd turned into wolves or weasels, savagely ripping pieces away and devouring them.
To add insult to injury, we made the moaning sounds that come with eating something incredibly scrumptious.
Devante finished his half first, but I wasn't far behind.
"Dee, put my glasses on me, would ya? I need to see if I missed anything," I said, my mouth full of chicken.
When it was over, we surveyed the bones picked clean on the bed of tinfoil. Almost sheepishly, Devante began cleaning up while I put away the groceries.
"Welp. I guess we aren't having chicken salad for lunch," I quipped.
Devante nodded. "I could eat another one," he said sadly.
Bri was at the gym, so there IS still one chicken left for her to enjoy.
She won't eat the whole thing.
Maybe we can have seconds. 😂
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