KFC stands for Kan we Fleece Customers?

Yes I know that the word “can” is typically spelled with a C. Go with me on this though.

Recently, we went to KFC for dinner after a long day of doing stuff like running errands and housecleaning and whatnot. It was a busy time of the evening…around five p.m. and I think I counted maybe six employees behind the counter when there probably should have been double that number based on the twenty or thirty some odd cars in the drive through lane alone. We made our decisions quickly and I ordered a $5 Fill Up box because it came with some popcorn chicken, a side of coleslaw, a drink AND a cookie.  Perfect. Somehow in the process of ordering though, the pimply teenage guy behind the counter convinced me it was a BETTER deal to get a slightly more expensive popcorn chicken meal that didn’t come with a cookie OR coleslaw. Maybe they were out of coleslaw, I thought, and I was too tired to argue with him. However, when our meal came, I noticed my son’s kiddie meal did come with coleslaw, as had my husband’s meal. Huh.  I was also never asked if I wanted any kind of dipping sauce for my popcorn chicken, when there was signage everywhere promoting their new “Finger Licking Good” sauce (hint: it ain’t that great. It tasted like ketchup blended with ranch dressing).

It ended up being that my son was the only person who got what he really wanted to begin with. My husband ordered a three piece meal which he thought came with two breasts and a leg. He ended up getting one breast and two legs. He had also ordered a brownie cake thing..which he didn’t get either because we were told after the fact (when he sent me back up to the counter to ask where the heck it was) that they were out. I was offered some cookies instead (which were almost half the price of the brownie cake thing) and I was all “OK. Fine. Just..just gimme the damn cookies.” because I was already frustrated with these people. My husband was so annoyed he called the number listed on the bottom of his receipt (where it said, in a cheery little font “Tell us how we’re doing! You can win $1000!” and I was thinking ‘Yeah. Riiight.’).

Afterwards, my husband said he would never ever go there again. Which is probably not true. Because in this podunk town if you want fried chicken you basically have four options: Chicken Express (which is fine if what you really want is chicken strips, not actual pieces of chicken), Popeyes (which my husband says is too spicy for him), KFC or nasty grocery store deli fried chicken. So we probably will end up going back there because really, it’s the only option that is acceptable to both my husband and myself since we don’t have like a thousand and one choices here.

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