Thursday, 17 January 2008

A Quest: the Lost KFC of Burslem

In honour of being asked to write for KFB I undertook a journey to a magical place. I had heard tales of my goal in dingy taverns and hoped beyond hope that they were not the siren song of thieves and brigands trying to lure the faithful to their peril.

Burslem you must understand is a commercial and retail wasteland, playng not second, but third or fourth fiddle to the nearby retail juggernaut that is Hanley, the beating heart of Stoke-On-Trent. Could it be true? Could Burslem, a small and insignificant part of the city really be home to a house of Our Harland?

And so, with hope in my heart and hunger in my belly I undertook to traverse the city in search of haute cuisine in Burslem. If it were true, I would be able to lay claim to a prize greater than just a Zinger Tower, the prize of knowing I had visited every single KFC in the greater S-O-T area.

As I entered Burslem I passed boarded up shops and derelict factories; hope was fading. Then, however like a mirage of an oasis in the desert, I saw the gaudy plastic frontage flash past me and I knew then that I had found the legendary lost KFC of Stoke-On-Trent.

I left my automobile in a nearby side-street and resolved to finish my journey on foot, but before long I was forced to face my demons. As I approached the magnificent edifice in respectful silence something seemed amiss. I was confronted by a sea of empty vinyl covered seats and neither was there a warm and inviting phosphorescent glow from the striplights. . . This KFC was closed for business.

Was I too late? Had this KFC ceased trading only recently. My head span, my belly rumbled and my heart began to palpitate as if to tell me it needed some fresh oil and grease if it were to keep my blood flowing smoothly through my veins.

And then, a miracle I saw a flicker of light and realised that at 11.15am in this backwater, that Burselm had missed decimalisation and was still opening at the archaic time of 11.30am instead of the usual 11am we have come to know and love.

Saved from a near nadir I drifted into a reverie. As the hour approached I was brought back to reality by by the familiar sound of a KFC lock disengaging from it housing. I ordered a Zinger Tower and drifted away on a pillow of winds.


ALbad said...

DG this is possibly the finest KFC related prose I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

paulbot said...

an excellent first post, can't wait for more of the same!

Woody woz ere said...

I go in there because I like KFC chicken. Simple, but ohmy god, the chicken is the only good thing in there. I have a hundred bad stories about that restaurant like the time theytold me that they ran out of salt when the guy was actually just too lazy to get some from out back. I kicked off because I was a bit drunk and the manager heard me and immediately dispatched the new salt to the counter. Most of the time, every table is full of rubbish and a queue a mile long. I once heard one of the staff say "God, I hate it when people leave a mess" Well lady, if we all left it neat then you'd have no job. That's when I came up with my system. Now, I always tidy my shit up in mcdonalds because customer service is great and the food is good (in moderation, I'll blog about that one day) but god help them if my food is not up to standard or I was treated bad. I'll make sure I mess the table up and maybe do something in the bathroom. Same goes for the bus service, if a driver upsets me I will go sit on the back seat and slash the seats if I have my knife. If not, I can use a key to pierce the seat then try to rip it open but there's usually loads of stinky passenger skin dust comes out. I actually haven't done this since 2006 but it was worth it every time.
So tonight in KFC I ordered the bbq banquet box. They didn't have it, I asked what I COULD have rather than going through the entire menu to be told what I can't have. I ends up with the fully loaded box meal for just under a fiver which consisted of chips, fillet burger, 1pc chicken, beans and a coke. The coke was filled up with ice so the soda was flat and watery. I had to wait about 10 minutes for it. McDonalds usually takes 10-30 seconds for a basic order round here. I eventually get my box meal and I opened it up at the counter to check the contents is all correct and not missing which is my usual KFC protocol. It appeared fine so I went to sit down and munch. Of course it wasn't as hot as I like it but it was edible apart from the tub of beans which I had to document.
As I sat there staring at my beans I had another little psycho fantasy which often frequents my mind. KFC is empty apart from the staff. I'm upset about the poor service. I jumped on the counter and kick the drink machine to bits, then I stamp on the chip and pin readers, then stamp on the tills LCD touchscreens so they are ruined, at this point the staff have locked themselves in the back room with no escape apart from one young girl who got locked out. She starts crying as I advance towards her brandishing a sharp knife. I grab her by the pony tail as she screams and I plunge her fucking stupid head right deep into the boiling oil. My hand is also in there but the pain feels good. I keep her in there for about 15 seconds. She collapses in pain as I let go of her. She's now dead on the floor because of inhaling the oil and there are chips all stuck to her face lol. Now it's time for the rest. With one awesome army kick, I twat the door off its hinges. There are 6 staff inside. I now have the skills and dexterity of bruce lee. I kick each of their asses and stab each one of them through the chest several times. I go to the computer where the cameras are connected to and remove the hard drive. I leave via the fire exit and my burnt hand heals. I jump into my Porsche and drive to my mansion where my bitches are waiting for me and I fuck them all before making some executive business decisions.
But I did nothing of the sort. I just left my shit on the table and went home with the shopping.