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By Matt Payne
Hundreds of Post Malone/Crocs enthusiasts wrap around the Chicken Express off East State Highway 114 in Kimball Park.
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By Matt Payne
A side of unreleased Crocs were served with about 500 Posty Specials Wednesday at this Southlake Chicken Express.
It all started with a secret email.
“We wanted to alert you that Post Malone has coordinated a very special surprise for employees and customers at his former place of employment - the Chicken Express in [Southlake],” an embargoed tip from FleishmanHillard PR received Tuesday afternoon by us editors at Fort Worth Magazine.
Post Malone, huh? One of the nation’s top artists putting on some mysterious shindig at his former gig before his career took off? Dang, that’s cool, maybe we should try to go out to this thing, we thought. Surely our readership would appreciate some exclusive words with Posty, formerly of Grapevine. Heck, maybe a full Q&A if we’re lucky. We could ask about his recent collab with Ozzy Osbourne, commiserate over the underwhelming Dallas Cowboys season, and chat over how his Thanksgiving holiday turned out.
This is the story of how being eluded by Post led to my acquisition of massive drip.
Hey, Post tweeted about the event! I noticed on Twitter before heading out that he aired his excitement ahead of the official release of his latest collab with Crocs. The memetastic shoe brand, in recent years, has seen new life thanks to Post Malone and his astounding Jibbitz charms he wears attached to them. It’s an early giveaway for free Crocs!
Hundreds, unsurprisingly, had already wrapped around the Chicken Express off East State Highway 114 in Kimball Park when I arrived 30 minutes early at 10 a.m. It was tough making heads or tails of whether the rapper of the hour was among the hordes of people as I weaved my car into a nearby parking lot while bumping “Take What You Want.” Spotting what appeared to be a dude with dreads got my attention.
I’d eventually learn the hope from that glance was all for naught.
“No, he’s not actually here,” I overheard some event coordinators tell crowds of people. “But who knows with him? He might come.” Now what? With Post Malone’s absence, I’d have to find a feature taking some alternate angle. Us writing types don’t like to leave assignments without something to write about.
It only took one look down at the coordinators’ feet for my answer.
“What are those …,” I murmured to myself. Midnight blue and black camo pattern. That iconic hole-punch design. Velcro in the back for max security. A bright orange ‘P’ emblem on the side.
I was in love.
Scoring free Crocs wasn’t my original intention. I’d already committed to waiting through the winding line just to see what I could gather. I even had a fleeting urge to concede defeat upon learning we’d mistakenly interpreted Tuesday’s email.
But I wasn’t about to leave without those cold new kicks covering my toes. Through sweat, growing thirst, and mild dizziness from standing around for nearly two hours, I had a new mission. Before I knew it, I ordered my Posty Special meal and got my fresh size 13s.
If you happen to read this, Post, please know these new kicks make me feel just like a rockstar. Maybe we could chill sometime over some chicken tendies and discuss Jibbitz.