tuxes and fried chicken

I took my father to go rent a tuxedo this morning, for my sisters upcoming wedding.
My father is normally reluctant to do anything like this, especially anything to do with clothes or fashion.
He definitely has his own style, however, complete with standard gwg's, mac shirt and some kind of shade of brown sweater.
That's how he's dressed this morning to go try on his tux. I insist he gets a traditional, two button number. He lingered first near a long-jacketed tux that was quite elaborate. He agrees on the traditional, but doesn't like the vest and tie on the dummy because he says it doesn't 'CONTRAST' well enough. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY DAD?! So he chooses a darker grey vest, with a platinum coloured tie and kerchief. He actually looks really great in the tux. He did some poses and danced around a bit, pretending to be Fred Astaire. He said the shoes are "tooooo shiny!!!" but he's gonna wear them because they're part of the ensemble.

After we rent the tux, I'm supposed to take him for breakfast (instructions from my mother before we left the house). I ask him what he wants for breakfast, and he says: "FRIED CHICKEN." Okay... He says "There's a place, by the stationary store...you know that one? CHA-CHU...CHACH. Churches Chicken. And the stationary store is Staples. So I take him to Churches and he orders two pieces of chicken and a coffee and sits down to eat his "breakfast." I get an orange juice and sit across from him, watching his fingers get all sticky as he eats. When he's all done, he says to me the following, which I will never forget, not for a million years:

"You know dat Kentucky Fried Chicken? It's one dolla more for two pieces. Here, it's 4.59 for two piece. There, it's almost six buck for two pieces. And if you go to New Westminster Key you can get two pieces of chicken for 2 dollas!" His eyes are really, really wide.

I have to ask.

"How much fried chicken you eatin' Dad?"

"Not much. That's why I like it. Just every once in while."