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| - This review is for two things: My meal, and the level of service that I got from this particular address.
First let's cover the meal selection: After months of Facebook mentions from friends, popular media jokes and articles, speed eating contests and every reported media what have you, I decided to try the "Double Down" sandwich. You know the one: Two pieces of chicken that have some sort of sauce, cheese and bacon between each breast like some sort of unholy abomination. I had described it elsewhere as it being the equivalent of taking your stomach to a brothel, and ending up getting "The Ugly One" for your digestive tract. It's... I'll explain more later.
The service? I should have known what I was in for when the girl didn't turn off the drive-in microphone and started whining to her co-workers. I should have further known in seeing the "Love/Hate" tattoos emblazoned on said server, because I guess while I should have found it endearing that someone had given her the apparent impression that this inkage choice was still somehow trendy and relevant in the 2010's, I couldn't help but realize that the someone who had made this opinion known was a liar.
I was told that my meal was to take 7 minutes to prepare. Okay, fine. I hate waiting to the side at any fast food place, but I wasn't in a hurry. One minute turned to seven. Seven minutes turned to twenty.
It doesn't take a meteorologist to know that sitting in Vegas' lovely 100+ degree Summers is not fun for nearly half an hour. But I was going to be cool (pun not intended) about it, go inside, and just ask about the status of my food.
So in I go (the other pet peeve I hate about the "pull over and wait" tactic), and present another girl my receipt to inquire about the status of my order. The original girl saw me and had that pissed look of "Oh no he didn't" at me. "It will be ready in a minute", she snapped at me. "Fine", I responded "It was just too hot for me to sit outside."
She slings me the bag, and is quite obviously done with me. Bear in mind that I hadn't been rude, and my only "crime" was to come in to see where my food was after a now 25 minute wait. "I still need my drink, please", I said. She looked at me like somehow my words had formed themselves into a sharp object and were repeatedly stabbing her in the head. I got my cup, and was on my way.
To credit, the food was hot and obviously freshly cooked.
But this wait confounded me. Did it really take 20 minutes to prepare a "Double Down" sandwich? At this point, is it still really considered "fast food"?
Braving my stomach's well-being, I went to another KFC a few days later and tried another. While they had me pull over to wait, this time, it took less than 3 minutes.
But let me tell you: After sampling a second one of these sandwiches, I think I'm cured of my need to ever sample another one of these monstrosities again. I think my very soul is tainted, and I may need to go to confession. Or have an exorcism performed.
As for this original address, I've been here a few times in the past, and was never impressed by the lackluster service. This last incredibly pained to do her job server was the final straw in me ever coming to this particular KFC again.
(Note I said "this one", as oh, how I do love their mashed potatoes.)
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