Kentucky Fried Chicken

Elite '08

459

350

Cidne W.

Long Beach, CA

I had other plans for tonight but my road dawg, Sandra requested my presense.  So we're hangin' in my bar when she gets some hunger pangs.  I still haven't gone back into the kitchen, and since we're tipsy we decide to keep it close.  OK....Pollo Loco, because I don't eat meat without some raw vegetables and I can get a side salad there.   Sandra wants KFC....Bleh!   I go, "Girl, KFC don't have anything fresh,  'cept maybe that pathetic piece of lettuce on that snacker thingy."    I go to their website...and I'm surprised that they actually have a few fresh salads.   Whaaat?  Get the fuck outta here!  So we roll.

I haven't taken the twists outta my 'fro yet so we hit the drive-thru.  I'm looking for a salad on the menu.  None in sight.  I asked the voice on the speaker about a salad and he acted like I was speaking Swahili or somethin'.   I said that I just saw at least 4 salads on the website.  A moment of silence.  "Heelllooo,  hey!  What's up?" I'm yelling into the speaker.  The voice comes on.  "We don't carry fresh salads at this location."   OK, now I'm starting to get all hot (and not in that good kinda way)  because I didn't want to come here anyway and now I'm starting to get that "why not in the hood?"  attitude.

  Ain't that 'bout a bitch when corporate uniformity fails you?

 I'm sure that I'm not the only person in this area of Long Beach who wants a fuckin' salad to go with that lousy chicken of theirs.  I'd bet my new bottle of AstroGlide that they have fresh salad up in the Bixby KFC, or the one in Belmont.    I put the ride in reverse, but a car rolls up behind me.  Shiiittt!  I'm getting hotter.  Sandra wants a 3 piece, lard fried bird anyway.

I don't have to explain friendship to you. San is one those friends for whom I'd a shank a bitch and flee the country for.  So I let her order.   "Cid, you can get some cole slaw," she suggested.

Fuuuuck that.  Once you had some of Deary's cole slaw (her aunty) all other slaw  is mere slave slop.  I declined to order from this joint.  I whip out the cell and order up a Bleunami on whole wheat with a side salad from Islands--to go.  We get her shit, head south.  As we roll down the hill into the Pike I pass her a dub (a twenty dollar bill) she jumps out, I roll the block, she jumps back in with my shit and we roll up out of there.  

Once back at the crib, she tries to get some of my salad.

"Uh-uh!  I said I'd shank a bitch for you.  I never said I'd share my salad."

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