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Saturday, October 25, 2014

The End of Tenders

"I'm afraid I have bad news."

"What is it, doctor?"

"You have 2 hours to live."

Luckily, I was close to a Popeye's, so I thanked the doctor and was on my way. It was a beautiful fall day, like many beautiful fall days before and surely like many beautiful fall days to come. The sky was that special blue color, the air crisp, the leaves vibrant. Such was the case as I walked to Popeye's.

"Can I take your order, sir?"

"I'll have the 7 piece chicken tenders with fries, and may I have a side of gravy?"

"That will be an additional $2.50."

I had not long to live so what would an additional $2.50 matter?

"Very well, then."

The combo meal comes with a regular fountain said which you yourself pour. I took my cup and filled it up with ice and Dr. Pepper.  When my order was called I grabbed the bag of tenders and took it to go. Outside I went, to sit on a bench and eat my tenders.

"Forty-five minutes left," I said to myself as I sat down and got situated.

I grasped my tenders and fries, eating them, relishing them as never before, dunking them into the rich gravy. How wonderful! Normally I would eat this meal in 15 minutes, but this, the final time, I stretched it into 43 minutes.

"Two minutes left," I said to myself.

I fixed my tie and combed my hair.

"One minute left," I said to myself.

So this was it.