My dearest stranger,

I know that now may not be a good time to hear this, and I know that there very well may not exist a moment when you, my dearest stranger, would be willing to receive this information. Nevertheless, please understand that I, being of questionably sound mind and body, absolutely must tell you the following.

I cannot say that I was there at the inception of ไก่ย่างวิเชียร. I can, however, promise you, my past lies notwithstanding, that I was there in its heyday.

I was there when ไก่ย่างวิเชียร was at its peak in ways that count. That time is not now.

Now, you may say that ไก่ย่างวิเชียร is more popular now, more than ever. You may point to the rows and rows of neon signs, to the 80 SUVs jam-packed in the dusty parking lot, or the hyperventilating inflatable chicken mascot, flailing without regards to the non-windy condition of the roadside.

If, on the other hand, you possess a mind more quantitatively oriented, you may cite such statistics as revenues of the stalls, or the stark increase in local productions. You may even refer to popularity surveys, which leads to nothing short of reassuring your disagreement with my, supposedly, contrived assertion.

And you would be correct. Conclusively, undoubtedly correct.

I apologise for the daft dismissal that I am about to make, but it does not matter.

It does not matter, to me, because all those stalls-turned-alleged-tourist-destination are devoid of one single most important thing of all: nostalgia.

Thus, a symposium: have the ไก่ย่างวิเชียร changed,

or have I?

Indifferent to you always,

Your stranger.