Such were the instructions emanating from the doctor's mouth in response to a dastardly stomach complaint I'd been suffering from. At first it didn't really hit me - I'd already gone a month without alcohol earlier in the year so I'd at least had a dry run (pun intended). And of course it would mean avoiding most Indian and Thai food which I love. But there was a niggling feeling that I was overlooking something...Oh God.
No KFC for a month.
Having overcome the initial week of constant sobbing I surmised that the only way to get through the pain would be to document my month sans Colonel. This, my readers, is the result:
Day -1: The last supper. I decided the only thing for it was to have one final KFC ahead of my course of medication. Naturally, I opted for a Zinger Tower meal. It remains the most bittersweet chicken I have ever tasted; the knowledge of the impending depression hanging over me like a grey cloud. I took a photo for posterity:
Day 7: The cravings were beginning to preoccupy my every waking moment. Performance at work was degrading. The relationship with my girlfriend suffering. The uncontrollable shakes. Well ok it wasn't that bad yet but the worst was still to come.
Day 10: A third of the way there and i'd taken to browsing fast food menus on websites in order to stave off the cravings. Having exhausted the Colonel's own offerings I moved on to sister company Taco Bell UK's site. If only they'd open more UK branches - I could actually eat their low fat 'Fresco' options during this month of pain.
Day 17: Over half way and still no end in sight. Two so called 'friends' i'm out with both order Zinger Towers, one even having the audacity to include a sweet chilli hot rod. Strong as ever though, I resisted. Well, I almost resisted. The lure of the gravy was too strong and I just had to dunk one of my low-fat Snack-a-Jacks in it. The result: an unpleasant mixture of salt & vinegar rice snack and otherwise delicious three step.
Day 25: Everywhere I turn, the Godfather box meal is staring me straight in the face. Telephone booths, tube posters, TV - it's everywhere! The mere thought of a hot rod is enough to make me salivate. Why must you torture me so, oh Colonel?
Day 30: I can no longer feel feelings. Devoid of emotion, I stumble past the Colonel's smiling face at my local branch. It barely registers. What have I become?! Disgusted with myself I vow to order a Boneless Banquet For One the very next day, then trudge home, the salty tears rolling into my mouth reminding me of freshly coated chicken.
Back on the wagon: As promised, I march into the local branch and order a Boneless Banquet For One with gravy and a Diet Pepsi. "What sorcery is this?" I wonder as I take my first bite, so magical are the flavours. Finally, I am reborn.
