Why aren't you at Popeyes?

I saw this dog outside of a Dunkin' Donuts in Chicago late one night at the end of a hot, July day. Maybe he didn't know there was a Popeyes just a few blocks down the street.

You crazy dog. Here in Champaign-Urbana, we don't have any Popeyes. Yet Bloomington - 46 miles away - has an embarassment of Popeyes riches (two of them! in the same city! just think of it - twice the biscuits!). I went back to the same Dunkin' Donuts the next night but he was gone. Maybe he finally figured it out.

I like to think of that sweet dog sometimes, feasting upon an overturned dumpster that overflows subtly spicy red beans and rice; deliciously peppery gravy wedded to white, creamy mashed potatatoes; and that signature spicy fried chicken. Watch out for the bones ol' boy... you lucky, lucky dog.