Allan Mayer’s Weblog

Posts Tagged ‘Kentucky Fried Chicken


It hadn’t been a good day, but I don’t want to talk about that…

 What I want to talk about is how ignorant people seem to assume that those around them are equally ignorant. Have you ever found yourself shouting at your TV screen during Who Wants to be a Millionaire: ‘DON’T PHONE A FRIEND! PHONE SOMEBODY ELSE’S FRIEND! ANYONE WHO IS YOUR FRIEND WILL BE AS THICK AS YOU ARE!

Friday was one of those days where a car crash may have brightened things up considerably… or so I was thinking as I drove back from the KFC.Now I don’t want to berate this fine institution and provider of jobs for a generation of hard working spotty youths, but I don’t actually like KFC. I think it’s over rated, and have my own theories about what its secret ingredients are. I was almost converted a few months ago by their gravy, but was disappointed the next time I tried it when it appeared to have been made by someone who had just been sacked from McDonald’s for making the thick shakes too thick.

But my wife and foster son love KFC. So what I tend to do is pick myself up a chicken kebab from the Nile kebab house (in my opinion the finest take-away meal in Chorley) then call for a KFC on the way home.

The Nile kebab is made in front of you from fresh chicken fillets, hand made naan bread, salad, chilli sauce… sorry, but the saliva is sticking up my keys…

So I get my kebab then go on to KFC. Normally it’s in and out, but tonight they’re queueing to the door and only two people are serving.

I’ve waited for five minutes when a middle-aged man in an expensive looking overcoat joins the queue next to me.

Five minutes later he says: I thought this was supposed to be fast food…

‘Yes,’ I say (and this was my first mistake) ‘and I don’t even like it. My kebab is congealling in my car.’

For some reason, this was taken as some sort of  signal. A signal which meant that we were somehow friends now, bound by our shared suffering as we waited forever in a queue for chicken covered in a blend of spices bound together by “”””.

‘I’ve been on a course today…’ he said.


‘Yes…  and there was a question about if I had any issues with staff who were homosexual…’

Right, I’m thinking, you’ve established that you’re something in management… but where is this going?

‘So I said,’ he said ‘no, I don’t have any issues with homosexual staff… because I don’t employ them.’

Now like I said, I’d had a bad day. I work with people with learning disabilities and am not only well aware of discrimination issues, I fully ascribe to those beliefs. What I resent is being tired and stuck in a queue on a Friday night where you suddenly feel obliged to uphold those values.

I didn’t feel that a lecture would be appropriate (or indeed understood) so I decided on another tack…

‘Well…’ I replied, ‘I won’t be applying for a job at your place then…’

It was worth it for the look on his face. I was tempted to mince out of the place, but Alison and Duane would have been denied their gourmet meal- and would have been deprived of their cholesterol fix.

So instead I just turned my back to him, not sure if I wanted him to take it as an invitation…

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