As I dashed out of my apartment without any sort of subtlety and complete disregard for my neighbors whom were probably counting sheep. I decided I should relax, slow my role, and take a deep breath for I needed it because of the extreme amount of anticipation for what I was about to devour. I headed down the street full of gum chewed up and spit out forever becoming part of the cement, a smile on my face and my head held sky high. I was a block away from the restaurant I didn’t even know how to pronounce but I could already recognize the scent of my chicken wings being dipped in scolding dark yellow oil that’s probably been boiling for hours. I wasn’t in the mood for general tso’s this afternoon because every time it comes with a couple pieces of chicken that are as hot as an iceberg. By the time my wings were ready to be inhaled, I still had to wait for my fried rice to finish being fried, as I watched the small Asian lady toss and turn my rice and vegetables with such precision and ferocity I beg to salivate and get startled at the same time. I had never seen someone make my food with so much emotion. A tear dropped from my eye but before it hit the floor, I heard a high pitched DING! My order is ready and now I must mutilate these wings with my bear hands for I am a savage hear me roar!
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