So the wings get to our table and instantly my eyes are assaulted with the spice emanating from Alex's wings. El Jefe is not to be taken lightly. It is a venomous mixture of, oh just let me allow them to describe: Habaneros, jalapenos, cajun spice, capsicum and Frank's Red Hot are just a few ingredients in this sauce that also doubles as bear-repellent. Yikes!
Alex does not seem deterred. He digs in.
Almost instantly his eyes begin to water and he starts chugging his drink in between bites. Even though we ordered only five, they gave him six honkin' huge, ridiculously spicy wings. I failed to mention that there is a challenge at FOTM: If you can eat 13 (13!) of these wings in less than two minutes, you get a t-shirt. I wanted Alex to try but after he ate two I decided I would never subject him to such pain. He finished the wings and probably five glasses of water and then instructed me to drive him to Dairy Queen for soft serve. How could I say no to my overspiced boyfriend?
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