KFC

We went to Kentucky Fried Chicken today for our neighbor's birthday party. She turned six. Enzo calls her "La La" for some reason. When I told her mom she said, "That is a rather affectionate nickname, don't you think?" I was a little worried about this ambiguous response but after thinking it over I think she means she likes it.

KFC was all we expected it to be. A very American feeling locale down to the poster on the wall explaining how the Colonel came up with his original recipe.

One thing surprised us, though. The staff were noticeably stressed out. They were all over the "no shoes in the playspace" policy. They ran around with stacks of plates piled high with chicken. There was one worker sweeping the entire time we were there, snaking the broom under tables and chairs to recover fries as soon as they fell. No one smiled. No one chatted.

This was in stark contrast to the usual come what may attitude that one usually finds in customer service situations here. I'm afraid the KFC is embracing the grumpy task oriented American worker persona along with the chicken sandwiches. It's kind of a bummer.