Today's lunchspot is one those places where the "flair" isn't worn by the employees, a la Office Space, but rather by the walls. The ceiling, also. There are tons of license plates, baseball caps, framed newspapers, etc. Apparently it seems as though patrons are meant to feel as though they're eating in their garage at home, amid all the junk that has been relegated there. Odd.

On a previous visit, noticed among the random signs posted on the wall is one that reads, "On this spot in 1897...nothing happened". Upon first reading, it seemed innocuous enough and completely not funny. Then again, it's just crap on the wall at a chicken finger place. It's almost meant to be ignored. Before the meal was even half gone, a young lady at an adjacent table pointed out the sign and exclaimed, "OMG, THAT'S HILARIOUS". Point taken.

Today, another adjacent table gave the sign a sliver of credence. This guy was sitting a few feet away from me, but he went unnoticed until one customer wished him "a good season". Clearly this was not a typical chicken finger fan. Most chicken finger fans are not 6'6", 320 lbs and make $7.25 million a year, though. This particular chicken finger eater has a reputation, though:



In the spirit of SEC Media Days, a jab: This type of behavior should come as no surprise, given his choice in universities.



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