Friday, May 18, 2018

#465 Curse of the Rotisserie Chicken

Over the past three weeks I’ve eaten three rotisserie chickens.  They’ve been on sale at Fresh Thyme for $4.99.  I’ve picked them up after tennis and they’ve been an easy, relatively cheap meal – cut off some meat, sauté some vegetables, dinner is served. 

There comes a time, however, when you’ve had enough.  That time came this week.  Enough of the rotisserie chicken.  Tennis is over anyway (for now) and I won’t be by Fresh Thyme all summer. 

I bring my lunch to work and as I came to the last work day I had no leftovers to bring, and no energy to be creative enough to slap lunch together.  When I hit “bottom,” I resort to my Palomino card.  It’s actually a Restaurants Unlimited card, where you collect points.  But the only restaurant covered by the card in my area is Palomino. 

I randomly applied for this free card a few years ago during a happy hour with a friend.  Then one of my committees had a celebratory dinner there not long afterward, and I collected about 300 points.  Which translated into mucho dollars on my card. 

Today I called Palomino and ordered a half rotisserie chicken panini, a half chop-chop salad, and it comes with their garlic fries.  I know…rotisserie chicken!  But it was the best-sounding sandwich they had.  I walked the 15 minutes to pick it up, and in my mind I thought, “You should open the bag and check to make sure you have the correct meal.”  What did I do?  I picked up the bag, glanced at the receipt stapled to the bag (rotisserie chick) and walked 15 minutes back to the office. 

When I opened the bag at my desk, it was the wrong meal.  Instead of getting a half rotisserie chicken panini, I had A HALF ROTISSERIE CHICKEN.  Blast!  And instead of the bill being $15 plus tax for the half and half and fries, it was $30 for the chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans, plus $10 for the half chop-chop salad.  Sigh.  I know, I didn’t “pay” for the meal, but I essentially used up two meals for that one.  (I am a frugal gal at heart!)

Maybe the rotisserie chickens are haunting me since I ate so many of their kind?  Maybe I should listen to the little voice in my head more often.  Open the carry-out bag, people.  Open the bag. 

I did have a delicious and essentially free lunch.  I am thankful for that.  And when I eat the rest of the blasted chicken for dinner tonight, I hope that really will be the last of the rotisserie chicken. 

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