Blessings and Bitches

I had to do some errands the other day. I saw a Kentucky Fried Chicken and thought it was the perfect lunch stop. Fast, easy, and good-tasting. When I walked in and saw several people waiting for to pick up their food, it made me a little nervous about how fast this would be. After all, they weren't all that busy, yet two people were waiting to order, and two more were waiting for food to be put on a tray so they could eat.

I haven't had KFC for awhile so I shook off my trepidation and put myself behind the folks waiting to order. It wasn't all that bad of a wait time to order, but the food waiters were stacking up to the left. All this waiting gave me plenty of time to read (over and over and over) the sign that hung under the menu behind the counter. "The Colonel's Promise: To serve the best food with the fastest, friendliest service." Uh-huh.

I waited about 10 minutes while a large black woman painstakingly fulfilled each order that her counterpart put through the computer. She'd get one item, look back to a board above her that we couldn't see, then do it again until an order was finally complete. She would then trudge over to the counter and put the finished tray on it without so much as a word to anyone. Luckily, we were all watching her and knew just when she was working on our own lunch orders. The place was getting busier, so it was great to be that far ahead in the fulfillment process.

I ate my lunch quietly, keeping an eye on the progress at the counter. I was inwardly giggling at the sign the corporate gurus thought would be every customer's quality assurance guarantee. There wasn't anything friendly or fast about the staff here. And the food was up to snuff of what the Colonel would want, but somehow it was a little disappointing after such a long wait. Part of the charm is the "fast" part of the promise, isn't it?

Just as I was finishing my lunch, the obvious happened. Someone's *I've Waited Long Enough* meter went sky high, and the plodding putter-togetherer behind the counter got blasted. "I've been waiting forever and you just gave them their order before mine. I ordered before them. What is taking so long for my order here?" The lady who was working so diligently and painfully slowly snapped then. I swear, people, that was all the lady waiting for her food said. The woman behind the counter said, "Quit being a bitch. I didn't know your order was first." This began the shoutfest that ensued. The customer was called a fucking bitch in the next rebuttle yell. And then the drive-thru gal had to come over to try to calm the tempers. The customer was explaining what happened when the black chick jumped in to call her some more names, to which the customer replied, "Why don't you shut up? I'm trying to tell her what happened!"

I was finished with lunch by this time. I thoroughly enjoyed watching the whole place focus in on these three women, and chuckled to myself as I left. It was gonna happen with the turtle pace that was slowing everyone's day down. I wondered if I should have jotted down that 800 number at the bottom of the Colonel's Promise sign so I could make sure this restaurant was checked for that quality guarantee. I wonder if that slow woman still works there?

In the blessings department, I have to tell you three readers that I am moving. It falls more under the "hidden blessings" category though. My landlady (who used to be a friend) freaked out earlier this month. She told me on the first that she'd like me to stay here as long as I want to because I take really good care of the place. Two days later she was standing in my kitchen screaming about having 30 days to vacate. Alrighty then. I've decided to take a month or so to decide what I want to do. I think my time in this town may be over. I'm working on some exciting things that could change my outlook, and have kept the perspective on this move as one of a blessing, not a disaster.

While it's true that I like to plan things and be completely prepared for major changes, I'm thankful that I have a great place to land while I transition and research my next move. Belongings in storage is not a fun prospect, but this too shall pass. Meanwhile, the blessings and the bitches seem to even each other out.