Today I acquired 10 dollars by way of an accounting error on the part of a Kentucky Fried Chicken employee who, in attempting to give me change after I paid for an 8 dollar meal with a 20 dollar bill, handed me twenty-two dollars. Even an uncompromisingly moral version of myself from an alternate universe would have been unable to notice, much less correct the mistake, as he, like me, would have been transfixed by the instructional poster adhered to the wall behind the counter, which read:





Thank’s (sic)

I assume the pneumatic device BLAST is designed to aid workers in remembering the process one must follow when waiting on a customer. I detected the most depressing part of this display immediately- though I opted to refrain from voicing my concern as I doubted it would be relayed to management- but only after I had left the establishment did I detect the most bizarre aspect of the acronym, the word for which B stands, “believe”. I’m glad that management has chosen to impress upon the KFC staff the value of belief, for a lack thereof could easily interfere in one’s ability to work effectively. Imagine, a customer enters a Kentucky Fried Chicken, approaches whomever should happen to be behind the counter, and says “Hello, I would like a large popcorn chicken please,” only to hear in reply a stern “No. No, you wouldn’t. I don’t believe you.”

– Gothicus Maximus

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