In honor of your brave chicken fiesta, here is my favorite story about that Applebee’s, having worked one block from it for five years (though never having been so brave as to EAT there).
During Fleet Week one year, [her husband] Stuart and I are walking from my building to the subway, and we pass a young sailor on the phone with a friend, both clearly trying to locate each other in Times Square.
Young sailor: “Where the fuck am I? I’m in front of the biggest motherfucking Applebee’s on the planet, where the fuck are YOU.”
Congratulations for eating at the biggest motherfucking Applebee’s on the planet.