My worst meal of the trip

It was not here in Louisiana. I had catfish at a gas station yesterday and it was amazing. People in this state like their food. What got me to thinking of my worst meal was reading my friend Tracey’s review of my local Greek supermarket back home, Titan Foods, on her blog The Busy Hedonist.
Now realizing that most of America is a gastronomical desert, I’m kicking myself for not taking greater advantage of all the wonderful food I had around me back home, such as Titan Foods.
A few weeks back, I reached Kansas after a long day of driving and a beautiful but long hike in Taos, New Mexico. I was famished and could drive no more.
The motel I picked, the only motel, looked fine from the outside but the rooms were so disgusting I used my own sleeping bag and pillow. I did not dare take a shower there because it would’ve made me dirtier. The obnoxiously bright fluorescent lights allowed me to play a rousing game of Guess That Stain
I asked for a restaurant recommendation from the old man proprietor, clearly the character actor who plays the old wingnut warning the hero of evil in every Stephen King movie. With a Maine accent and all, “Not much around here. Course, if you have to eat, there’s the Pizza Hut. Me and the wife don’t like EYE-talian food. Too spicey.”
Five minutes later I was in an empty Pizza Hut being seated by 300 pound, 4 foot 11, 17-year-old with her stringy peroxide ponytail poking out the back of her black cap. Pizza Hut really needs to provide their employees with curves more of a structured uniform.
I could not get myself to order the pizza because the one other time I had eaten at the Hut, the dough reminded me of warm and sugarless vanilla pudding. I ordered the chicken parmesan hero because that was sure to be amazing, right?
To expand revenue opportunities, Pizza Hut has now become half pizza restaurant and half chicken wing restaurant, called Wing Street. My hero arrived with four boneless chicken wings placed on a nearly raw baguette. No sauce, no cheese.
I told the waitress that chicken parmesan usually comes with cheese and sauce and if I wanted a schnitzel sandwich, I would’ve ordered one. Perhaps the – air quotes – chef could look at the picture on the menu for inspiration. She simply asked, “So, do you want me to get you some cheese and sauce on the side?”

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