Hurrah! Finally! After a week of coldcuts, flavourless fruit, and mineral water - a hot meal! Chicken. In fact, whole rotisseried chickens and greasy french fries. The staff here circle the meal table like vultures. Some dig in with their fingers. Others grab a box and hide it on a shelf, saving it for when they are less busy. I am so excited that I can barely contain my joy. This meal is like manna from heaven...a juicy oasis in a desert filled with salami, ham, and bologna.
Cluck. Cluck. Cluck cluck cluck.
I turn to see the Secretary General of JCI. This very distinguished man speaks 5 languages, travels around the world meeting dignitaries, and works closely with the United Nations. And he is clucking like a chicken.
Cluck. Cluck.
He walks over to the meal table, picks up a box, and says, "We have chicken? Avian flu anyone?"
The chicken suddenly tastes very dry in my mouth. Sigh.
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1 comment:
LOL Shelley. So funny. Miss you.
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