When one is the king of an empire of fried chicken joints, one should travel in a style befitting one’s station. Of course there are Lincoln Town Coupes for church and El Caminos for hauling McNuggets between stores, and 98s for the daily grind of Grosse Pointe wannabes. But what about date night? The kind of dates where the wife and kids are at home. How does one troll for and keep a Saturday night “honey there’s a problem at the store and I have to do another ‘drawer audit‘” piece of ass on the side?