24/02

Farewell, sweet Colonel

By Geisha Bar

I enjoyed reading this review from Urban Spoon I thought I would share it with you:

I used to love KFC. When the inevitable weekend hangover was in full swing, a dull switch would go off in my brain which signalled that it was time for my near-lifeless carcass to slowly shift itself from the bed/lounge to make the shlep to the nearest Kentucky Fried Chicken. There was something very tangible about my desire for their food that probably harks back to childhood. The warm, salty, greasy explosion of the chicken. The potato-on-potato delight of dunking their chips into their (vastly superior than Red Rooster’s) potato and gravy. Washing the whole mess down with an icy cold Coke. Then the waves of disgust and self loathing as I returned to the bed/lounge, feeling as though I’d just ingested a brick made out of hot lard. You may notice that I’m using past tense quite a lot in this review. That’s because, as of January 2015, I’ve decided to quit the Colonel forever – and it’s all because of KFC Subiaco. I’d try to limit my intake to once a month, and three visits in three months at the end of 2014 turned me off to the point where I had to wave a sad farewell to the kindly-faced old Colonel. First, there was the time when a pigeon (or ‘flying rat’) was pecking away at the remains of someone’s unfinished meal (inside the restaurant). Then there was the time a rubbish bin’s contents were strewn across the entrance. The floor of the restaurant was absolutely filthy. There was a third visit when my housemate and I were about to order through the drive through, waited about twenty minutes without moving, then managed to manoeuvre our way out of there to take in a Hungry Jacks instead. That visit doesn’t count as no food was ordered. The final visit consisted of some blocks of hot ‘n’ spicy chicken that tasted as though they might have originated from Egypt, circa 500BC. This was bland, hard, mummified horror. With that, I cried ‘no more!’ It was a sad day. Sure, I might live a few extra years but I’ll miss you, KFC. Thanks for the memories and the hardened arteries.