Cajun Chicken Sandwich

I ate the Cajun Chicken Sandwich. It had a chicken breast seared with Cajun seasoning, garnished with ranch, mayonnaise and beer battered onion rings, between crispy lettuce all in a sesame seed bun- along with home style fries. A chunk of deliciousness. And I ate it.

To be fair, I should have devoured it last night. But the Shanghai chicken wings sautéed in a sweet and sour ginger sauce served with a Wasabi ranch dip and a large Margarita were competing for attention. And the Cajun Chicken wilted on the platter. Not quite wilted but just sat there. And then quietly, unprotestingly accompanied me home in a to-go box.

Just as unprotestingly stayed the night in the refrigerator. Cheek to cheek with a bag of overripe plums, a few ripe mangos, some desiccated leftover squash cooked with kale( don’t ask me how I did that- it was a burst of creative culinary genius- obviously K did not think so- because a week later it still remains in the refrigerator) and a few bottle of Mrs. Renfrow’s homemade salsa. Spent a long cold night in that company and also with a gallon of milk nearing its expiry date. Silent and waiting.

It probably had had enough by morning. Because it was clamoring for attention when I went to get the creamer out for my wakeup coffee.

“Eat me, its been so long” it wailed.

Untemprered by hot coffee, the idea of cold congealing greasiness was rather unappetizing. So I resisted.

“Me, me, please take me “ It said a few minutes later, when I opened the refrigerator door again.

No, I mouthed.

“For lunch, at least have me for lunch” it spoke again.

I relented and packed it. Fries and all.

Once in school I put it in the little icebox in our office. But its morning victories had emboldened it.

Clearly, it gauged that I could be manipulated. So it called again, less imploringly me, more seductively.

“I am so good.. seared with Cajun seasoning, just dripping with mayo… you like mayo”

I turned on the laptop- prepared to be deaf to the call.

“There is ranch too- just a spot- just what you like… I am really delicious.”

I opened the mini-fridge.

“There are fries too… fat homestyle fries….with pepper….”

I am only human. I took one. It was cold.
“A minute in the microwave… and I will be perfect.”

I closed the fridge.

“Even the lettuce will not wilt. The Cajun dressing and the mayo will mingle in a whirl of delicious goodness… you are hungry- you know you are… you want me, yes you do.”

I was quiet.

“Oh, yes you are… and then you can have a coke. Its here. Diet coke. Come on, you want me.. you do, you really do.”

That did it.

So I nuked it.

And ate it . For breakfast. With the fries. I could not control myself. I could not.