Making It Up As I Go Along #443

Kentucky Fried Chicken
Kentucky Fried Chicken. The low end cousin in the world of fast food chains.

McDonald’s is where the cool kids go get first summer jobs. Free Big Macs and Mcnuggets are spoken of with near reverence.

Burger King has those that don’t quite have the social chops to be seen as McDonald’s kids, but they’re in the game. They are the Beta to McDonald’s VHS back when both came about. Cool that you can watch a movie in the comfort of your own home... but... well... not quite there.

Wendy’s is the land of the down to earth teens. They aren’t all caught up in the image of the Big Mac. If I had a teen going to work the fast food chain, I’d hope they’d be at Wendy’s.

A & W is a step below. Let’s face it. The food is fine. Onion rings and root beer that can’t be beat. But the uniform worn by those behind the counter... just not cool.

And below all these fast food joints sit the employees of KFC. If Cleatus, the Slack Jawed Yokel, of Simpson’s fame, were to work a fast food joint... he’d be in the KFC kitchen. This is the last straw of employment for those low on the social list. Yes, there are always some exceptions. Perhaps you’re to be more respected as a manager at KFC than a cashier at Wendy’s. But by in large, KFC is not the place to be.

Greasy teens pedaling greasy chicken. I don’t know if the employees don’t bathe before work... or if it’s that if you spend eight hours in that kitchen, the atmosphere of the place is grease. The rest of the world has an atmosphere of oxygen... KFC kitchens have a grease/oxygen mix.

Still, there’s something about KFC that warms the heart... perhaps it’s the grease coursing through the veins... causing once fluid blood to coagulate... running the human body on a bloodish gravy. But there are KFC memories beyond those of other fast foods.

Where you unwrap and eat a burger in the front seat of the car, sitting there in a parking lot with a cup of fries held between your legs... KFC is a family meal. A summer outing in the park, or a Friday night treat after parents are home from work, and kids have a coming weekend without school.

Buckets are opened with aromas of chicken sifting through every corner of the house. A box of fries is opened on the kitchen counter, left open for the buffet line of family to help themselves... but the opener of the box can’t help but sneak one... as payment... for making ready the family meal.

Then there’s KFC coleslaw. Never a treat to me... neon green and tangy. But my mother would dive in... a little smile upon her face as she scoops out a few spoonfuls onto her plate.

In my own mind, there is a legendary time I think back to where I ate a dozen pieces of KFC chicken while still not into my teenage years. I distinctly remember our family lunch in Gander, where my belly just wouldn’t fill. I’d return to the bucket, scooping out another leg. By piece number six, I was sheepish about it. By number ten, I felt as though I was stealing... asking my father if I can have another and feeling as though I’ve gotten away with something when he allowed it. Surly he mustn’t know the quantity that’s past my lips... or he would put a stop to this madness. It’s the price parents pay, when they don’t pay attention to the quiet one.

In reality, I likely never ate those dozen pieces of chicken. Perhaps it was five... making me on par with a hungry adult for the first time in my young life. Or perhaps I did pick up and bring a dozen pieces to my lips... but ate only the spicy batter, leaving the chicken meat on the bone... there for my parents to pick through my “finished pieces”, having a meal from my left overs.

Either way, the memory of a dozen pieces eaten... so many years ago... remains with me.

Today, I’m more careful about the grease levels within my bloodstream. Kentucky Fried memories bring me back for the occasional meal still... but two, maybe three, per year is all I allow.

Last weekend was one of those times. Grey Cup football brings on the KFC tradition. And so it was last Sunday, coming home from softball, making a pit stop at the local outlet.

The couple of men in front of me at the line felt themselves as stars. At least one of them did. We were all left waiting for a new batch of chicken to cook up, so there was time to overhear the commentary of stranger’s lives. At the counter, the fatter of the two men came straight out and told the clerk that they’re on TV. “Do you recognize us? We’re on Canada’s Worst Driver”.

Shot down by a KFC employee... remember, those at KFC are the lowest end of fast food society, “Oh, no... I don’t watch that show.”

Chubs goes on about the show... hoping to impress his celebrity upon the youth. He thumbs towards his companion. “He’s the driver on the show. He’s an awful driver... the worst!”

His friend, seemingly not thrilled about this conversation, pipes up... “But I’m the one who drove us here!”

Unfazed, the fat man continues. “Hey, we’re going to a staff party after this, when do you get off work? Wanna come?”

Such offers seem strange... and a touch creepy. Is this chubby man trying to pick up the teenage boy, here while ordering supper? The employee chuckles and gives a dismissive “I don’t think so.”

After our wait, I finally get home with my meal. Pulling containers out from the paper bag and filling my kitchen counter with them... the scent of chicken, slowly penetrating my house.

No longer in the bucket... I pull the chicken out of a box much like, only a little larger, than the French fry box. I actually wish it was still in the big round bucket. It’s meant to be there. Not in a fry box.

After digging into three pieces, some fries, potato salad, and maccaroni salad (no need of coleslaw with mom not here) I head back to the kitchen to put away the left overs. Once done, a great splotch of grease glistens upon my counter where the chicken and fry box used to be. It takes several goes with a wet dish rag to remove the evidence of what took place here. I’m as a criminal, cleaning a murder scene.

But despite the grease, and wait in line at the restaurant... and gravy blood. It was an enjoyable reminder of days gone by. Gnawing at chicken bones, licking fingers of seven herbs and spices, and thinking back to pre-teen feats of eating... as modern day football played before me.



SATURDAY...
— Up early for work. The sound of the scraper on the windshield echoed through the neighbourhood at 5:15 in the morning.
— Bit of a sore neck by the end of work... some heat on the neck and hockey on TV to end the day.

SUNDAY...
— Work is alright... ball after that. Lose our first of the fall league but still win the regular season title. Doesn’t mean much but nice all the same. Still, we’re pretty sloppy in the field as a team, and I boot a few that really shouldn’t be booted. Oh well, get it out of the way now... playoffs begin.
— KFC after ball. This means it’s Grey Cup time. My only time for KFC. The chicken’s a bit greasier than last year... but tradition is tradition.

MONDAY...
— Made a big trade in the hockey pool. Within the trade, I get rid of two Habs, including Price, and take back a Senator. Such actions makes me feel dirty. But the overall should make it a good trade... I hope.
— Work is tedious... part of the night. But then ok for the rest. Checking into a job possibility. Could I be on the move again? Hmm.

TUESDAY/WEDNESDAY...
— Work Tuesday night. Goes oddly as systems and computers are mucked up. Oddly, my computer is the only one in the section working fairly normally.
— Tonnes of rain through Tuesday night to Wednesday night.

THURSDAY...
— Go downtown and get a new computer today. Some may be willing to kill me... but I now own a Mac. Did lots of reading on it all and have been saving money pretty good for a while now... and with part of it being an early Christmas gift from the parents... it seems like a reasonable time to give Mac a go. Probably won’t have it fully up, with all my files from the old laptop until the middle of next week. But it’s looking good so far. Also got a new wireless router. The old one is just too old.

FRIDAY...
— Set up a new wireless network. Got rid of the old router and the new one has things running smooth and steady. No dropped signals. Some video games... groceries... and a trip to Staples for a chord for the printer.