Sunday 8/2

2 Aug

I was unpleasantly woken up this morning at 12:30pm to a phone call from S who was calling me about brunch.  I had just thrown up bile a few hours ago and had completely forgotten that I had promised S I would eat an entire chicken with him at this all-you-can-eat fried chicken brunch at Charlie’s Southern Style Chicken in Harlem which is apparently known to have some of the best fried chicken in the country.  Why I promised him I’d do this I have no idea, since I don’t typically agree to go anywhere above 14th Street unless it’s to go to Tin Lizzie’s or Dorian’s in the UES.  Harlem should have been completely out of the question since I consider anything above 88th Street to no longer be Manhattan and I refuse to travel to other boroughs unless it’s to go to JFK or LGA, including Harlem which should be considered its own separate borough.  Today was especially not the day I wanted to travel outside my apartment given I was dying in my bed from A’s birthday bash the night before which is annually notorious for being a shitshow.  But S guilt tripped me and I felt bad so I got my hungover ass out of bed and met S at his office to go eat some fried chicken.

It was pouring and subway or walking was out of the question, so S and I grabbed a cab along with his coworker IM who was also questioning why he agreed to take a trip to Harlem on a Sunday afternoon.  Throughout the 30 minute and $20 cab ride I kept feeling more and more nauseated not only because I was going deeper and deeper into the heart of Harlem but also because I literally was about to puke up some more bile.  Finally, we arrive at 153 Street, IM and I  were appalled, and S was glowing with excitement for all the fried chicken he was about to eat.  I wasn’t even hungry anymore, and I was scared shitless I was going to get attacked by a poor person.

We get to Charlie’s and guess what.  You won’t even believe it.  Actually, we totally should have expected something like this.  THE PLACE HAD BEEN CLOSED FOR 8 MONTHS.  CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE IT.  LIKE REALLY!??!??!?!  ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS.  Classic, this is fantastic, I couldn’t even believe it, I wanted to hurl on S’s face, I couldn’t believe I had gotten my ass out of bed to go to Harlem for THIS.  I was flipping a shit.  The guy at the door who told us the place had been closed for 8 months sensed my rage and I guess he felt bad for us so he directed us to this other restaurant on 109th and Broadway where apparently this “Charlie” guy was also cheffing.  Well we had come this far so there was no way any of us was going to go home without getting some fried chicken in Harlem so we decided to go to this other place, Rack & Soul.

As much as I hate to admit it, I have to say it was totally worth it because I had some of the most delicious fried oysters with brie, buttermilk biscuits, fried chicken, mac and cheese and mashed potatoes I’d ever had in my entire life.

Rack & Soul

Rack & Soul

And the best part about it was, IM who is this tiny kid who probably weighs less than S’s left arm, only ate one fried chicken piece and barely touched his mac and cheese and mashed potatoes, and I was feeling nauseated and was about to hurl so I really didn’t eat all too much, so at the end of the meal (which, by the way, S picked up because he felt bad for dragging us to a closed location in Harlem on a Sunday afternoon), IM gave me all of his leftovers, and I had all of my leftovers, and together I was taking home enough fried chicken, biscuits, mac and cheese and mashed potatoes to last me probably until Thursday.

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