I’ve never been to KFC before.
I know, I couldn’t quite believe it myself.
There wasn’t a clear queue in place and, to be frank, it mattered to me not.
I was utterly baffled by the many menus of differently named chicken buckets which all seemed to be exactly the same.
I still had no idea on what to order when a space opened up at the counter and I feared that we were going to be next.
Which we were. I panicked and chose one of the high end buckets for about 12 quid.
Which was upped by the KFC chap in a cap to 15 quid with gravy, beans and some Pepsi thrown in. “You might as well,” he said. So I did.
I hate Pepsi.
Not only was I hoodwinked, but the queue experience passed by unnoticed. Luckily, we had plenty of time to observe consequent customers.
These two fellas were right behind us and were veteran visitors to KFC. Their order was confident and assured, with no changes made.
The next pair of gentlemen entered and finished their conversation before glancing at the menu boards. They were in no hurry to form a queue and I noted that this may have been a necessary period of acclimatisation.
Keeping the same position at the back of the premises, they counted pennies and debated their order.
Only once they were ready to order did they then approach the counter.
Blinking like freshly born lambs, these two also needed a period of acclimatisation upon entering.
However they skipped the decision making stage, cautiously approached the queue, and joined the previous two gentlemen in the pensive stage of arms crossed and mouths open.
At first, it looked liked the men in front were going to order separately and the young couple remained in a state of meditation.
But once they realised that the men were ordering together, the young couple were quickly panicked into making a chicken bucket decision.
The first two men ordered a chicken bucket and no extras. They knew what they wanted and they got it.
It is not surprising to learn that the young couple were convinced to buy gravy, beans and diet Pepsi on top of their order.
October 2, 2006 at 3:39 am
It’s the distance between the people that impresses me most. With all that empty, tempting marble serving counter in front of them, where they might lean aggresively, waving their bank-notes, these customers choose instead to stand respectfully, one behind the other. I notice that this holds true even for the young healthy males.
Where I live, young healthy males are so pumped up with testosterone that in a KFC like the one you describe, they would be practically swarming over the counter like zulus.
I begin to understand the eclipse of the West.
July 5, 2009 at 2:01 pm
A bit of nostalga, I miss these stories. It’s all still the same here. Although I wasn’t at a KFC. Last night I went to a barge party on the Thames in Dalston. The barge people have a good idea of mooring on the Thames, underneath some beautiful million dollar blue lit flat. The party was invite only and was held on a very narrow ropeless platform which was easy to misjudge the brown decking to the brown Thames and fall off from. Indeed, the girl who had invited us did fall in, head submerged. There was one toilet and the queue was very orderly. You would be standing in line for at least 20mins and form a group of your own, there was shunning of the lady who tried to push to the front when she pleaded ‘really, please, this isn’t the end of the queue’ and said with puppy-dog eyes. And, there was a jovial commotion when a regular to the barge was oblivous to the queue and assended up the stairs, only to turn to an audience of open mouthed jiggling queue members all waiting their turn, as a group, together. Many a friend to be made.