Please enjoy this review of KFC Eastlink.
I was having a low day and drifting into a shame spiral. What, I thought to myself, could I do truly hit rock bottom? How could I get to a place where the only way was up, looking at the stars?
Petrol station KFC.
That’s where life restarts. I ordered a three-piece box. Pepsi, because when you’re in that mindset you don’t deserve Coke. I got Wicked Wings too, just to make sure I got exactly where I needed to go.
All that grease. One plastic-wrapped serviette. I sat at an empty table and ate. I started with the Original Recipe and didn’t even wipe my face before attacking those Wicked Wings. The fries were next. They were too good for my specific needs so I washed them down with a cup of potato and gravy and looked down at what I had achieved.
I am Ozymandius, King of Wings. Look on my carcasses ye mighty and despair.
I sat in silence.
I wiped my beard, walked out to my car, and into a new life.