I think the drinking started at 3 pm. As soon as I walked into the apartment of my friend's coworker, a shot of whiskey was thrust into my hand. I downed it, of course—it was Hoboken St. Patrick's Day.
Nine hours and many, many beers later, I found myself with TC in a KFC at Herald Square, staring dazedly at a pile of breaded chicken and fried potatoes. How did I get here? Nevermind. I ate my meal of fast food. And let me tell you, the potato wedges were diggity-dang delicious.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Fast-food beer googles
Labels:
American,
Eating Out,
New York City
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
It's crazy how I knew that those were kfc potato wedges just by looking at them. damn, kfc can actually hit the spot sometimes
ReplyDeleteLove the title - it is certainly true.
ReplyDelete