Johnny Novo
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Our friend group made it out of the group chat and all flew from different parts of the US to meet in Mexico City, with the trip being centered around UFC Mexico. This is probably the most trite male activity we could have done, but is something corny if you genuinely love it? Probably.
After eating primarily pork tacos on our first few nights, I needed a meal to bring me back to homeostasis. I seen about 20 chickens slowly rotating in the rotisserie oven from the street, and that may as well be a bat signal for me.
We sat down at a 4-top on the street and all ordered different things, but I ran a half chicken and with a side of spanish rice and black beans. It came with tortillas too, but the last thing I needed at this point was more carbs. My big homie said the tortillas were gas tho.
This chicken was decent, falling in my B-tier rankings for rotisserie chicken spots. It was just a little dry, but I’m a snob with my rotisserie chicken. Being an expert on something is truly a blessing and a curse.
I probably should have done more diligence on finding the best possible chicken spot, but sometimes I prefer to just go by feel. It’s nice to just let the spirits guide you every now and then.
I’ll tell you what though, sitting there in Mexico City with my friends who I’ve known since high school, ripping into some B-tier chicken was truly a moment. We don’t see each other as much as we used to, but it’s fun reconnecting a few times a year and watching everyone’s growth. One just got engaged. Another homie who used to be a little slut is now fully cuffed up, in a committed relationship. I never thought I’d see the day.
I have some of the best friends in the world, and am so grateful for that. I’m also grateful for some B-tier chicken, as it is still a solid meal.
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