Supper Report: KFC

I don’t enjoy fast food, especially eating it at the fast food restaurant where the employees, who have probably placed boogers or worse in your unhealthy food, can sit there and watch you eat it. But, I must confess that since I had not taken my bride out for a proper Mother’s day dinner, it was only fair that we drop a few dollars for some of the new, more healthy, zero-trans-fat KFC. I can literally feel myself getting healthier as I write this.

I am happy to tell you that our food was hot, fresh, and not greasy at all, there were no signs of the aforementioned nasal elimination and in fact, having not eaten at the Colonel’s in some time, I was more than pleased. A bit pricey if you must know the truth, but only the best for my wife. Especially since she got paid today.

As we walked from table to table looking for a reasonably clean booth to sit at, I recognized a family from down the street. The father and I gave that knowing nod to one another that says, “We’ve never met, but we have nodded at one another before.” Everyone in Silver Creek is so friendly.

My wife had collected some napkins and Sporks, (actually, they no longer have Sporks – now they have actual plastic forks and plastic knives, but no spoons for some reason) and we gave our table a quick wipe-down while we waited for our number to be called.

The service was very quick and in no time at all, I was wolfing down some Original Recipe (minus the trans-fat of course), and life was good. The baked beans were steaming hot and had a unique but excellent taste to them and though nobody’s green beans can compare to Bill Miller’s, these were suitable enough to warrant a “Tasty Treat” from me, though not a fully enthusiastic one.

I try not to pay attention to what other people around me do while they enjoy their meals. I mean, if a person insists on talking on the cell phone, as long as they don’t talk with a fake British/Aussie accent, I’m cool with it. So, this weird guy walks into the KFC carrying a boom box with it turned on for all to hear. A boom box! WTF? Is this the 80’s? I mean; did this guy not get the memo? Hello? Can you say iPod?

So my wife has never met a stranger and she will talk to anyone even without formally being introduced. So naturally, she looked over at the “Boom Box Guy” whom it turns out has sat himself down directly behind this family from down the street, and she say’s loud enough for everyone in the place to take notice, “You have got to be shitting me!” Thank God we weren’t at some fancy place like the Magnolia Pancake Haus.

So as it turns out, Boom Box Guy got the hint and cranked down the volume just enough so as to be no more distracting than MuZak, and we finished our dinner to the fading in and out of some radio station that couldn’t seem to tune in all the way. Good times.