KFC

Little chickens on the farm they wake up every day they see the sunshine and they eat food then one day the hammer comes town farmers knife cuts off their heads and skins them takes after feathers and then pooches them and cleans he will then cut them up into bite-​size pieces and then freeze them then defrost them and fry them with jeep oil and then bread and this will be can

If there was such a thing as an archetypal KFC, this would be it. A dumpy little joint that’s somewhat worn and dirty around the edges, slightly outside the downtown of a bedroom community suburb, located next to a Taco Bell and across the street from a both a peeler bar and a private liquor store. This isn’t where you go to get greasy food, it’s where greasy food goes to die.
Now, you could go to this KFC for the food, but why you really want to go there is to witness the top-​of-​voice screaming matches between the swing managers and drop out fry-​jockeys with more years of servitude. You can’t pay for this kind of entertainment. Get yourself a tall drink, pull up by the cashier to wait for your food and enjoy the rousing bouts of «you didn’t tell me to put that on» and «that’s not how you do it» and «I told you to put on more thighs for the dinner rush» and «you don’t know what you’re doing.»
If you must order food, you might think about something other than the chicken. It’s cooked an obscene amount of time before service and sits there, lurking, waiting for you, counting the hours in yellowed plastic bins, warmed by the soft, fleshy glow of heat lamps.

We went there last night for take-​out. I had a coupon and the cashier wasn’t sure about how to about ringing it in so she had to ask someone. No problem. I waited, waited and waited for this person to help her but in the meantime, she was making me feel like a burden for having the coupon in the first place cuz she was borderline bitchy rude to me for the rest of the transaction.
Then, when i was filling up my pop, I nearly slipped and did the splitz because a staff member used the kitchen mop to mop the floors in the lobby! I politely warned the «friendly» cashier about the floor so someone else doesn’t get hurt. I don’t think they took me too seriously. But really, its common sense; don’t use the same mop for mopping up grease where you DON’T want the floors to be greasy!
Finally, got back to work and they didn’t give us any ketchup, napkins, forks, spoons etc and I ended up «drinking» my macaroni salad! Also, my friends popcorn chicken tasted like it expired hours ago. My chicken was comme ci comme ca.

Got a bucket of the chicken to go noticed that it had a long hair cooked in the chicken. We ended just throwing out the whole bucket. So the next week my husband decided to give it another shot. So we got the bucket again, he also complained to the women at the counter. She said she would notify the manager as he was not in and would take our number down. When he got home we again noticed there was a long hair in this bucket. We never received any call from them. We will not order from there again two times with a hair is enough. Yuck!