Last night Max and I were ambling along Ke’eaumoku Street, trading wisecracks and sass as good buddies often do. We had pretty much agreed that hedgehogs would have a better reputation if they shared the hedge a little more. But I digress.
We noticed a new food emporium had opened. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Itchy Butt Chicken and Joy.
Now, your first thought might be that asking for takeout from a location named Itchy Butt is dancing with the devil, if you know what I mean and I think you do.
But you might be wrong.
Although Itchy Butt is a recent arrival on the K Streets culinary scene, it has already garnered a 5-star Yelp review.
OK, it is also the only review so there’s a fair chance it was written by the owner or a close relation:
So freakin’ good! Finger-lickin’ ono licious garlic chicken!! Crispy yet tender on the inside. A little sweet, but not like candy, with nice crispy bits of garlic within every bite.
That sounds like something the owner of the fledgling Itchy Butt chain of fine, joyful restaurants might author, doesn’t it?
So freakin’ good!
We checked out the restaurant and could not locate any Joy but the two young ladies slinging fried chicken seemed happy in their work so we assumed the Joy was somewhere nearby.
Not to suggest a meme or anything but a couple blocks further down the street we noticed a dog grooming business called The Itchy Pooch Salon.
The opportunities for co-marketing seem obvious.
“Is your Itchy Pooch licking his Itchy Butt? We have a solution for that – chicken and joy.“
By then both Max and I felt like our skin was crawling so we turned our toes toward home, anticipating a good and thorough scratching.
That’s when we saw the most startling sign of the evening:
Categories: Max's Stories