A few days ago, I accompanied the wife on a trip to K-Mart (yeah, they still exist) to pick up roughly $500 worth of hair-care products. Apparently it takes a lot of work to keep her hair from frizzing up like Florida Evans.
Anyway, while walking to the register, we passed a display full of impulse items. You know the type – small bags of chips, chewing gum, pens – things you just grab at the spur of the moment.
You’ll never guess what was prominently featured on this stand:
YES. Small jars of pigs’ feet! UGH!
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I asked the wifey “Are those really mini jars of pigs’ feet?” She replied “Welcome to Alabama, baby.”
I thought you could only get pigs feet from those shady ghetto butchers who sell such delicacies as cow tongue and chitlins. I only see stuff like that once a year, when someone’s aunt brings a stinky pot of that crap over for the holidays.
Who thought portable pigs’ feet was a good idea? “Oh, I’ll pick up some Trident and a couple of jars of vinegar-soaked globs of fat.”
At the risk of losing credibility, I’ll mention that I’ve never tried pigs’ feet. Maybe I’m missing out on greatest convenience since bottled water.
But I seriously doubt it.
People, put the pig down.