Fried Chicken Surprise

Tour de Brooklyn, an organized ride through southern Kings County.  The ride started in Red Hook.  We met at Ikea, my two friends and I.  The ride began.  It was a leisurely ride.  Most of the riders were amateurs at best, riding slowly and without skill.  I ride fast and with skill.  But it was pleasant.  The weather was great and it felt liberating to ride the streets of Brooklyn en masse, with little concern for cars or traffic lights.  We reached the rest stop, not that I needed a rest.  We were forced to wait for everyone to recharge before heading off for the last leg of the tour.  My friend wanted a picture of the three of us, and I asked a young woman if she would be so kind as to take our picture.  She obliged.  We waited an eternity for the ride to commence.  It commenced.  We rode behind our police escort, and it took everything I had to restrain myself from passing the police car and forging ahead on my own at a more manly pace.  But I kept my manliness in check.  We rode down a hill with a slight grade.  Noise.  Something was happening.  I looked to my left and saw a young woman crashing, falling onto the pavement, her keys and other various items flying through the air.  "Stop!" cried some riders, hoping to prevent a stampede over the fallen female.  "Screw this female!" I thought, and kept riding, but as I gave another glance back I noticed it was the same young woman who had taken our picture!  "Tough luck," I thought, and continued the ride.  Later, my friends and I acknowledged the fallen rider was our photographer.  "That was a shame," one friend said.  Yes, a shame.  Anyway, we finished our ride and were ready for ale and food.  We ventured to Threes Brewery in Gowanus, which was a lovely place if ever there was one.  Nice, slightly modern in a tasteful way, well lit, and a great outdoor seating area in the back.  We ordered ales.  Plates of food were being served.  Wait just a second.  Was that fried chicken?  Yes it was.  And it looked good.  I have wonderful fried chicken instincts, and felt deep inside like Threes might have some good fried chicken.  My friends and I had been planning to go elsewhere for food, but we decided to test our luck with the fried chicken.  Of course, fried chicken is rarely bad, but if you have read these chronicles of mine, you know my endless rantings and searchings for really great fried chicken.  The chicken was served.  It looked great. A thick, craggly, well seasoned crust.  I took a bite.  The crust was indeed craggly, very flavorful with cayenne?  The meat was juicy.  Crap this was some good fried chicken!  I ate without abandon, soon grabbing some of my friends' fried chicken because I wanted all I could get.  I knew it wouldn't be enough so I turned to the side and took a thigh from the table sitting next to us.  "Hey!" they yelled out.  "Screw you!" I said.  

Threes Brewery, Gowanus