We all have chicken needs. I get that. But this is a two lane street with double yellow "do not pass" lines painted down the center. And fucking sharrows. It's bad enough in the morning when all the delivery trucks turn that stretch into a blind fucking death alley. But holy Christ. Nowadays it's like there's never a time of day or night when some fool isn't taking up half the goddamn road just sitting there.
Please don't misunderstand me, I love to crunch into those hot, dark mahogany bird parts as much as the next guy. I live to feel the spices searing my lips and tongue. And I completely understand how the juicy allure of those perfect breasts might cause some uncouth fuckers to behave erratically. But I've got to say, if you're the sort of doofus who thinks it's okay to park your mud-spattered Yukon in the middle of a busy street so cousin Joe can pop in to see if his to-go wings are ready, you might seriously consider the possibility that you and your cousin are fucking assholes and even your friends think you're fucking assholes, and everybody but you knows because they they swap hilarious stories about you when you're not around.
Now I understand that some people have real accessibility issues, so I've assembled an exhaustive list of all the reasons why it might be okay to park your fucking SUV on the street in front of Gus's.
1. You are assisting a very special chicken lover with mobility issues and you need to get your friend or family member as close to the door as possible.
2. That's fucking it, there are no other reasons.
3. Seriously, there are no other reasons, stop trying to justify what you're doing because it only makes you look like a bigger asshole than you already are.
Obviously, a lot of these middle-of-the-street parkers are scared shitless. They are worried. They think you can't walk more than 15-feet down a mean Memphis sidewalk without being robbed by mutant bangers or kidnapped and sold to Alabama sex farmers or forced to make/avoid making uncomfortable eye contact with that earnest-sounding panhandler who may or may not be telling the truth about his kids who haven't had any tasty chicken in a long time. But for the love of sweet baby Jesus can everybody just stop for a minute and consider all the other poor fuckers out there on the road, most of them drunk, or sexting, or playing Bejewled Blitz on their phones, and not expecting you to just randomly park right in front of them? Can we think about that just a tic? For the children? For the fucking children?
And while we're talking about the fucking children, do you know who all else needs to get their asses right with Amy Vanderbilt? Pretty much every pedestrian — every man woman and child — crossing that same stretch of Front.
Chicken or no chicken, the "Look both ways before crossing the street" rule is in effect motherfuckers. There needs to be a law that says if you are hit by a moving vehicle in front of Gus's Fried Chicken you can just fucking deal with it yourself because it's probably your own goddamn fault you asshole. This is not a video game. It's not 1981 and you are not playing fucking Frogger in your fucking bedroom on your Atari. This is a real goddamn street with real goddamn cars driven by real red blooded Americans who are currently unable to stop in the middle of the street and eat a styrofoam plate full of delicious fried chicken because they have someplace else to fucking be.
In short, I don't know what kind of country we live in anymore. I don't know who we are or what we believe in. I just know I almost die and nearly kill every time I drive by Gus's Fried Chicken on Front. Usually while trying to get around some SUV that just fucking stopped like somebody shot it with a freeze ray.
It doesn't have to be this way Memphis. It never had to be.