On
Wednesday, June 10, 2010, I experienced one of the most astonishing
catastrophes in the history of fast-food service at the Preston-Rolater
KFC. I recorded it for your benefit on
the very same evening. It remains one of
the most frequently hit articles on this site.
You can find it here:
and you might want to revisit that sad tale before you read any further.
I
am here to report on a second example of appalling service at this
establishment that took place on Sunday, December 2, 2012.
In
fairness, I must report that I have made successful chicken and side-order
purchases in the months since then. It’s
always dicey – order-fillers sometimes disappear into the bowels of the store
to go looking for vendable chicken to fill the order, and order-takers seem to
be in a constant state of unsupervised training. (See below.)
But in most of these visits, excruciating clarity in
ordering, followed up by a stern cross-examination of the server as to the contetns of the bags when he or she finally, breathlessly, delivers them, will usually result in an order approximating the one you issued before the body starts
consuming itself with hunger.
The
Dallas Cowboys were on TV that evening.
One might think that the store would have prepared for this, although,
when I arrived at 5:15 – that's right, prime chicken-acquiring time – the store
was not crowded nor was there a line of cars with inhabitants demanding the
instant vending of chicken. There was
one woman in front of me. A few
customers in the dining room, including one family with two small children.
And I must point out that KFC is currently airing commercials advertising their "Gameday Bucket" showing sports-watching consumers with multiple buckets of fried chicken on the coffe table before them -- urging the public to travel to KFC to order these large quantities of chicken to enjoy while football games of interest are on during this season of interesting football games. And there is no metro more concentrated on the viewing on the teevee of its team than DFW.
Point: KFC strategic planning anticipates major chicken orders before big games, especially big games of intense local interest.
Tactical planning on the ground -- a different story.
The
counter lad was the latest in an unending string of the undertrained. He was almost inaudible and had a look of
concerned puzzlement on his face. The
woman in front of me, a nicely dressed, literate human, was having a terrible
time getting her order across to this guy, who stared mutely at the panel of selections before him on the cash register, and a colleague had to come and reach around him to poke at the proper buttons.
Suddenly,
at the edge of my vision, I saw the mother of the family group in the dining
room approach the counter. She had
brought with her the entire large platter of
their dinner. She spoke to someone
who went to get someone else. The
someone else was a gentleman of around 50, dressed in a way that more-or-less
conveyed the impression that he was the manager of the place. It is the only time I can ever remember
seeing anything resembling a mature adult officer at this establishment. I wondered what he had been doing before he was
summoned to deal with this dissatisfied client. Hint -- not making chicken .
The
woman was shaking her head and had a look of disgust on her face. I could not hear her precise complaint. I don't know if the order was wrong or the
food was unsatisfactory. I only know
the family had barely touched it and they were submitting it for a refund. The manager complied and the family left,
taking their drinks with them. (I did not interpret this dining strategy as being implement just to get free drinks.)
The
woman ahead of me had completed giving her order and it was my turn. I ordered my usual eight-piece all-dark Original
– four drumsticks and four thighs, with cole slaw as my side order.
That
order proved troublesome for the Yum! Foods/KFC Organization.
At
5:15 p.m. on a not-so-busy Sunday before an evening Cowboy game, this KFC was out of
cole slaw.
I
said OK, no problem, skip the cole slaw.
I
paid for my bucket.
A
few moments later, I heard some mumbling going on behind the racks that held
the chicken. It was the counter guy and
a couple of chicken-making guys. I heard
the word "drumstick." There is
only one reason for the counter guy to be discussing drumsticks in clandestine
tones with guys in charge of preparing them, that being that this KFC did not
have any to sell. I was so certain of
this interpretation that I spoke loudly enough to be heard through the chicken
racks: "That's OK, I'll just take
all thighs."
They looked up. I had been correct. That's right – no Original drumsticks at this
time, a time when most properly-run restaurants would be ready to sell what has got to
be one of single most iconic food items it offers, the Original drumstick.
Oh,
Cool Hot Centrists, if it had ended there I would not be writing this.
After a brief wait, another guy came out with
the bad news – they did not have enough Original thighs to make up my order –
would I like other Original pieces?
At
this point, I was shaking my head and smiling.
No, I said – just fill out the order with Crispy thighs.
("Crispy
thighs" – now there's an image to kill a romantic evening.)
I
don't much care for the KFC Crispy preparation.
It has a faintly medicinal bouquet.
But
I took it. I thanked them.
When
I left the woman in front of me was still standing there.
 |
Bucket of Original Dark,
ambrosial tasty skin falling off the delectable grease-infused meat
-- image available online,if not at the Preston-Rolater KFC |
I
wondered as I got into the car whether the order the disgruntled family had
returned might possibly have had as one of its constituents some un-nibbled Original
thighs.
* * *
Twitter: @CoolHotCenter
