The Chicken Tie Story

Way back in 2009, Gabe and I spent a day going around in our matching chicken ties as we took stuff to the dump, waited around for the ADT guy and met the Bride for lunch.  Needless to say, we had not gotten a lot of things done and upon showing up for lunch (this was mid-move into our house and I'm the worst mover you ever encountered ["Oh, I remember this pencil!"]) our sumptuary shenanigans were met with an icy death stare.

So Gabe naturally bought two rabbit ties so they could be busted out at some point over the vacation stay. I made sure he still had his chicken tie.

So as the ladies were getting ready to go to the Crab Shack, we put on our rabbit ties and waited.  The Bride and son came in the room and we talked about general things.  Five minutes went by before the ties were noticed and the DEATHSTARE was upon the two of us innocent lambs.

We get all settled in at the table at the Crab Shack and I say I'm going to the gents'.  Gabe says he could go, too.  Like two 22 year old girls at a Ladeez Nite.  Our wives continue talking, oblivious.

We then pull the chicken ties from our pockets and change into those.

We sit back down and wait.  I finally say "Well, I'm going to take this tie off before I get butter on it..." and make a slight show of pulling at neckwear.

All I can say is that we lived, but only just.