Hot Chicken on a Friday Night in Franklin

I had another first tonight.

I ate my very first hot chicken. Technically, it was medium hot and it was listed as “crybaby,” but I’ve discovered that was as hot as I want to go. I was sweating and dabbing myself with a napkin and saying things like, “Lawd, have mercy.” I felt like Madea in one of those Tyler Perry movies.

FYI: They have four levels of hot chicken, with the hottest requiring a signed waiver before you eat it. I kid you not. As the famous philosopher Paris Hilton said, “That’s hot.”

I somehow managed to get diverted on my walk back to Five Points on Main Street. I ended up walking through an area that was a little sketchier than I normally like, but I kept walking until I saw something familiar– good ol’ 11th Ave N.

From there, I was good. Maybe there’s a life lesson in that? I’ll leave it for you to decide.

I worked my way over to Fair Street, my favorite place to walk in all of Franklin, and even looked for the friendly cat that I saw a few weeks back. Alas, he wasn’t there.

I spent time in the dark in my favorite church building– St. Paul’s. After all that hot chicken and all that walking and sweating, it was probably best that I was alone.

I got my iced beverage from Frothy Monkey– I wanted pumpkin spice or something else fall-ish, but I settled for hazelnut. Still, I had my Harper Lee book, so it was all good.

If I ever win the lottery (or some rich distant relative leaves all his dough to me), I’d love nothing better than to live in one of the old houses either on Main Street or one of the nearby roads. I’d be super-trendy in my red Mini-Cooper with my Mac Book Pro and my downtown Franklin cottage. Someone should definitely make that happen.

But for now, I’ll just continue to live in the moment and count my blessings and give thanks for another day to be alive and celebrate the God who always knows how to give the best gifts to His children.

 

 

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