Oh, Baltimore .....

The few of you who used to ride the 'A train of the metro' (sadly the 'A train' driver retired several years ago) will recall the little farewell spiel he used to give at the most popular stops. It was pretty lengthy but part of it went something like this - telling you not to forget your "cellphone, keys, umbrella, chicken bones, chicken boxes, the husband, the wife, and the kids..." (Imagine it with a nice, thick southern accent. He went on and on and was actually pretty entertaining.)

Anyway, the whole chicken bones and chicken boxes part might not make a lot of sense unless you've ever stepped foot into the "World Famous Lexington Market," which is this huge food market next to the metro stop we got off at to go to school (and now, to work). Sounds exciting, right? Wrong! I think we both tried it a couple of times when we were fresh and naive. But after walking right by that place and breathing in the smell of rancid oil, secondhand smoke, and other foul odors for 3 years (over 4 now for Joe) Lexington Market is an establishment we avoid at all costs. (Probably a good thing since it is also the place to get handguns at a potato chip stand, 'loose ones' (single cigarettes), as well as perhaps some percoset or other goodies and services ACORN would call the "performing arts.")

The other day I went downtown for a meeting and saw a guy drop this fresh chicken bone right in front of me. We always joke about how you can't walk more than a few steps through the Lexington Market parking lot without coming across a discarded chicken bone (gross, I know) and so I was inspired to whip out my camara and go detective. The evidence is as follows:

You can understand, right, why although KFC may have been an acceptable tailgating snack every once in a while before we moved to Baltimore, we now won't touch the stuff. Somehow, it just represents the epitome of B-more ghetto-ness. I mean every place sells the stuff, even Wendy's!! Plus the smell - it's everywhere! You see people eating it on street corners, then throwing their bones into the gutter. Even one of Joe's patients asked immediately after receiving his denture: "Can I eat fried chicken with it??"

To sum it up: the day we start to crave fried chicken is the day it is time for our Baltimore chapter to come to a close.

(P.S. Don't be too scared of Baltimore. Some parts are really nice!!!!)