Picture yourself on a line with a mix of people of all races, all economic backgrounds... you are tugging at your shirt, praying for some airflow in the hot North Carolina summer. You step up to the counter and an older woman with a hairnet grabs a pad and you say "White meat chicken dinner". She says "Quarter or Half?" You look at your waistline, and retort "Half - white meat... and a sweet tea please". She reaches back behind herself and grabs a white cardboard box among stacks of boxes. You can see beyond her that fry cooks are frantically throwing things into these same boxes. She approaches with the box, grease stains abound and you pay and leave (there are no seats here). You can't believe that your mouth can create this much saliva as you race back to your office/house/school/park. You tear open the box to find deep fried nirvana. Crispy, golden fried pieces of chicken with succulent meat that falls off the bone, french fried potato coins, fried hush puppies, cole slaw and a dinner roll. They usually include two or three napkins in the box - grab a few more....