Despite this being the height of bikini season, I craved fried chicken for dinner last night. I pulled into my neighborhood outpost for the Richardson-based Golden Chick chain, and I was informed that they had run out of yardbird. (The horror!) As I waited in the parking lot for my grub, I had time to stare at the mascot, whose name could not be ascertained through 30 seconds of Googling, and contemplate two questions:
1. Is there another restaurant whose mascot is an anthropomorphized version of the very food it serves?
2. Why the glasses?
