The KFC Experience
I needed food, and I needed it fast. I couldn’t be bothered to cook, so I opted for the fine cuisine offered by my local KFC.
Upon entering and thinking long and hard about what to choose from the menu (I was tempted to break from the norm and try the chicken), I opted for a Wicked Zinger Meal, accompanied by the only side order worth having (gravy) and a Pepsi.
I was summoned to the counter of dreams by the employee who used the traditional greeting of
“Can I take your order?”
This is where it all went downhill. At first, I was half tempted to reply with:
“No you bloody well can’t! It’s mine!”
and the other half of me was tempted to reply with:
“I should hope so or there’d not be much point in you standing behind that counter and I might as well serve my own food!”
Eventually, I settled for a simple, conventional:
