no chili/chilly

I am sitting here at a Chili’s outpost at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport on a two-hour layover to New York.  Having not had breakfast or lunch, I pulled into this place looking for a quick bite before I hop on another plane.  A side of chili and side salad sounded perfect.

“I’m sorry, we’re out of chili.”


I suppose things could be worse.  The woman sitting next to me is breaking up with her boyfriend via cell phone.  Now, that’s cold.  Did I mention she’s also drunk?

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