This week has been incredibly stressful at work. I’ve had a niggly injury which means I haven’t been able to run at lunchtime, which usually acts as a sure fire anxiety buster. Instead I’ve been largely chained to my desk, desperately trying to avoid the quagmire of office politics and gossip which have threatened to subsume me. Friday couldn’t come quick enough.
Hannah is at a youth club tonight in Larne, leaving Fionnuala, Rebecca and I with a couple of hours until we pick her up again. It wasn’t worth our while driving back home so we retired to the nearest fast food joint, a largely deserted Kentucky Fried Chicken. I wouldn’t normally frequent such eateries, but some days joy can only be found at the bottom of a bucket of fried chicken.
I discovered what a spork was. Genius! It’s up there with the moon landings and the wheel as far as I’m concerned. I also discovered they don’t serve Diet Coke (BOOOOOO!), only Pepsi Max. Meh. I reluctantly poured myself a glass after briefly considering smuggling a tin of DC in from the car. Even I have standards. I then explained to Rebecca who Colonel Saunders was. Sheesh! The youth of today.
Before too long the bucket was empty. ‘Do they only serve chicken in here?’ enquired Rebecca. ‘Yes,’ I replied wearily. ‘What about burgers?’ she persisted. ‘Yes. They’re called chicken burgers,’ I shot back in her direction. That shut her up for a while. There isn’t a lot to do in Larne I rapidly discovered, bar eat fried chicken. It’s a soulless place, with no apparent centre. Just lots of roundabouts.
It’s a town I don’t know, nor do I particularly want to know. There’s a standing joke that the only good thing to come out of Larne is the ferry to Scotland. At one point I found myself going the wrong way down a one way street, before almost accidentally boarding the outgoing boat. I don’t think Hannah would have been particularly impressed if we had phoned her from the other side of the Irish Sea.
We now have only 25 minutes to while away before the youth club ends. Thank God for blogging. Towns like Larne and my brain dead adventures around it have proven a writing lifeline and spared me the ultimate humiliation. Returning to KFC for seconds. A burger, possibly. One of the chicken ones. That Colonel knew a thing or two about product placement. 23 minutes….
Welcome to Larne. Abandon hope all ye who enter.
Where is your ‘Larne’?
Black Thoughts 
Literally just had this phrase in my head. Mostly bevause I’ve been uselessly sitting while my daughter packs 2/3 of her life for a 48 hr jaunt. Did I mention she’s my ride home, and quite snappish? I can do very little right, and all I really want is to go home. At least the the ferry to Scotland you’d be out of the brutal (feels like 108 F) Texas heat.
Good luck on your drive home!
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I feel your pain of the heat over here near Fort Worth.
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Thank you Liz. I hope you survive your ordeal 😐
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You are so right, some days can only be salvaged by a bucket of fried chicken.
I’m in Chattanooga, Tennesse USA. Fried chicken is the top of the food pyramid here!
Staples of Southern living, fried chicken, potato salad and sweet tea. 🙂
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I may have to move to Tennessee 😊
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Come on over! We’d love to have ya’ll!
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Thank you 🙏🏻
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I can’t recall the last time I had or went to a KFC. That’s not because I’ve got that word I can’t remember (I don’t think anyway), but it was just SOOOO long ago – like when I was about 18. I’m surprised they’re still trading. Though I do recall the coating being particularly delicious. 😋 I hope you all get/got home safely.
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We did indeed. Thank you.
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Wow. I don’t remember the last time a saw a kfc bucket with actual chicken in it. I swear it’s just bread, bone and skin here. Haven’t eaten it myself in atleast a decade. And Pepsi? Shame…
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Shame on me. I opened a DC the second I got back in the car to wash the foul taste from my mouth 😂
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Thankfully you keep some in your car? Clever.
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Why obviously! What if I ever broke down 😂
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Very valid point. I have a mom purse which has snacks of course. And a car with half drank waters. My kids think my car is a refrigerator. Always ask for food as soon as we get in.
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It’s going to give you a head start come the Apocalypse. Which always seems to start in New York. Or California. Oh….and Wyoming.
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Nice 😉. Well in this California house we’re prepared.
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God Bless America 😂
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Ooohhhh the greasy juicy chicken… original or crispy! How about the biscuits? ( what do you call them there?) yum. I live in “Larne.” Sad is me. But hey, at least there is blogging, and things to do close by… no round about in this town… no traffic circles either!! I think you all are waking up now! I’m headed to bed.
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I think it was original. Biscuits is something entirely different over here. It came with chips (fries), gravy & a little bowl of spicy rice.
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Rice instead of biscuits? (Not cookies) soft scone like? You put butter in them.
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No KFC over here don’t do biscuits we had them when we were in Florida over here we call your biscuits scones and we put eat them with butter, jam and cream
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That’s what I thought. My husband wasn’t sure about scones. Ha.
We now buy Irish butter. The shape fits our butter dish we purchased whilst living in England.
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Ohhhhh…..
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I love this:
“but some days joy can only be found at the bottom of a bucket of fried chicken.”
Bumper sticker? T-shirts maybe?
Love your writing! Always entertaining.
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Thank you. I’m honoured. You can’t beat a good bumper sticker 😂
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At first, I thought you were calling Kentucky Fried Chicken a soulless place, to which I would wholeheartedly agree. I have yet to find a KFC that doesn’t look like it needs to be burned to the ground and then rebuilt. But if you mean location…
There is a little town and an even smaller town just a few miles down the road. I lived there for only 6 months but it was awful. The only thing that made it good was satellite TV. I think I’ll write today’s post on that soulless place. Thanks for the inspiration!
Oh and if you’re ever in the US, you need to come to the South and get some real fried chicken. You haven’t had real fried chicken if you get some KFC. You need to get some from a woman who is selling it in a food truck because it’s most likely a recipe handed down to her from her grandmother’s grandmother. Now that’s good friend chicken.
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Just a follow-up: I wrote a piece about soulless roundabouts of life: https://ineedtosaythis.home.blog/2019/06/24/living-your-miserable-why-part-1/ and linked back to your blog and this post in particular.
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Haha, oh my goodness, this was too funny!!!! “Chicken burgers” xD !
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Delicious 😋
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