A letter to Uncle Kenny

Dear former country singer turn chicken rotisserie franchisor,

First of all, I would like to relay my Mother’s hi. She was a great fan of yours, that is before you turned to be a chicken roaster person. Nevertheless, I did tell her that you are fooked up rich now. Chickens are hot.

Before I proceed, I would like to say that even though I am totally oblivious to your music, the chickens are roasted to perfection and that’s hot. Though I have to say you can learn a thing or two from our local ‘ayam golek’ maker here in JB. I have already suggested to the latter to include mash potatoes and Cheese and Mac into his menu, to which he responded with ‘I-Think-this-girl-hit-her-head-somewhere’ look.

I went to one of your outlets namely in Angsana Plaza, a place full of aunties with donut bangles, teenagers with colored hairs and foreign workers where I ordered a spaghetti bolognaise, which was supposed to be served with a muffin ‘together’ with the pasta. I ordered that with a Diet Coke.

By the by, how I ended up there? The supermarket has the cheapest cat food, so said my Mother. And it was about 5 minutes drive from my house.

Anyway…

It wasn’t until 5 minutes later that the awkward looking waiter told me that they were out of Diets. So being the no fuss no hassle customer that I was, I opted for a regular coke instead.

5 minutes later, they served me a single muffin and my coke, and it wasn’t until another 10 minutes did my bolognaise CAME.

With a single spoon. With a SINGLE FRIKKIN’ SPOON! With a single frikkin’ PLASTIC spoon.

I went WTF with grace and asked for a fork. Heck, I didn’t even mind if it was a plastic fork.

They went out of their way to get me a set of proper fork and spoon. There was a fork, and there was a soup spoon.

Again, being the no fuss and no hassle customer, I literally souped my pasta anyway.

The point of the matter is, just because the franchise is located in a totally local mall with totally local staff, it doesn’t mean that the customers have totally local table set up knowledge. For one, it is western food (Being that you are western in heritage… duh!) and I have never seen people eating pasta with their hands. (Laksa Johor notwithstanding).

Being the no fuss and no hassle customer that I am, (Well, was, at that moment) I let it slide, paid an undeserving RM 19 for it and left. I wonder what deterred me from going over to the suggestion box and dropped a huge ‘You are running out of spoons and forks and the service deplorable.’ card into the bin.

It was one thing that I have to withstand terrible Malay music playing at that moment at the podium, it was another thing altogether having to be treated like someone who doesn’t know that pasta is supposed to be eaten with a fork and spoon, and not only a single frikkin’ spoon.

Well, if it’s any consolation, I still enjoyed the bolognaise. But it’s not enough to make me go back there. And I couldn’t possibly blame the rain, and the unbelievable crowd coming into the complex, the lame ass wedding event and the fact that I had to park outside on the gravel parking spot that started the whole ‘go to Kenny Rogers for food alone because I cannot go home … well … not in the rain cuz it will ruin my hair’ drama.

If any of the people who work there happened to read this right now…

Hey… honestly, YOU GUYS DO SUCK, and it is embarrassing for a business to be run that way.

So Uncle Kenny, even though I still think your chicken rocks, that’ll be the last time I am ever going to step into one of your outlets again. I can always ask my coolie brother to go and ‘tapau’ (That’s take away in Malaysian speak for you.) if I crave for those scrumptious juicy breasts of yours (the chicken, the chicken!!!)

Yours truly,

Sarcy