A Night in Franklin

I spent my Saturday night in Franklin. I visited my usual haunts and got my Main Street fix for the week.

It started off with a friend chicken tenders basket, which would have been better if I had gone with two pieces and not three. Don’t get me wrong. The food was stellar, but there was too much of it. I suppose yet again my eyes were bigger than my stomach. It was sad to see all those tasty fries go to waste. I almost ate the rest out of pity.

I then headed over to St. Paul’s Episcopal Church for some peace and quiet. Very rarely am I ever in a place of silence that it seems strange not to at least hear some form of white noise.  I’ve decided that the last thing society wants is for you to be in a place of silence where you can actually think about your life. They want you constantly bombarded by ads and music and noise 24/7 until you comply with their ideas of what to buy, wear, eat. etc., etc., etc. But I digress.

I had my mug o’ hot chocolate at the Frothy Monkey. Yes, it was both hot and frothy. I got in a little people watching while I sipped my frothy concoction and pretended to be hipper than I really was. It was great fun.

If I could live in Franklin, I’d love it. Maybe I could do some extended house-sitting there someday.

In the mean time, I plan on returning there soon, although I may have to shake things up by varying my routine a bit. Puckett’s, anyone?

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