Over the weekend, after my aforementioned work with Habitat for Humanity, I found myself on a part of town with a KFC other than the one that failed to have cooked chicken available on three different occasions over the course of a few days.
So I tried that one. Hey, there’s something about those 11 herbs and spices….
I drove up to the window and ordered. The woman apologized, saying they had no white meat chicken. No breasts, no wings.
“None?!?” I asked. “Of any variety?” Honestly, I really wanted that Original Recipe, but I’d have settled for the new grilled variety.
“No, sir. I’m waiting on the chicken truck.”
Hmm. The chicken truck.
That’s comical. I wonder if it has “The Chicken Truck” painted down the side in big, bold red letters. It ought to have a siren and flashing yellow lights to warn drivers that they’re on a mission to deliver chicken to KFC restaurants who inexplicably find it impossible to keep chicken cooked — or stocked at all.
The main thing I don’t understand is this: if a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant runs out of chicken, why would it even stay open? I’d have closed.
Out of embarrassment.
I think I’m officially done with KFC now. I’ve learned it’s a great place to go when you’re really on a diet.