STRANDED at KFC for 3 HOURS.

A lot of you saw via Instagram my unfortunate incident that happened at the KFC the other night.

It was so unfortunate that several of you wanted to vomit, much like myself.

It was also so unfortunate, that I'll have to share the picture again.

Ready? Set. Go.

This, my friends, was at the bottom of our KFC bucket.

Just sitting there.

Unattached to anything else.

Let me just say that it definitely ruined my KFC experience. For Life.

Let me also say that KFC is not a place that I go to regularly {or ever}.

We just so happened to see a KFC commercial, got sucked in to its advertisement, then somehow ended up there, ordering the 8pc chicken meal, complete with mashed potatoes and mac 'n cheese.

It wasn't our finest moment.

Anyway, the point of this post is not to say how disgusting KFC is (and it really is disgusting),

or to say that I regret not keeping this disturbing spine for purposes that could potentially make me a millionaire (and I really do), but this is to tell the story of how we were stranded there for 3 hours after this horrific find.

...

As we were leaving the KFC, we got in to The Dizzle's whip to head home.

Except home, we did not go.

He tried to start the engine, and instead of doing just that, the engine made a very sad and angry noise.

We looked at each other and stared for a few seconds.

Then he tried again.

Nada.

Except this time, the engine starting spewing some very concerning smoke at us.

So The Dizz got on his mobile and dialed up the mechanic that happened to work on his car earlier that day, who did a routine oil change and such.

The mechanic, who we shall call Carlos, told my Dizzle that he would personally come down to the KFC on Market and 32nd to take a look.

Surprisingly, he knew just the KFC we were talking about.

45 minutes later, Carlos arrives.

He tinkers around for a bit and tells us this:

"Blah blah blah, engine, blah blah blah."

Clearly. I don't speak Car.

I think he could tell that by the dumbfounded looks on our face.

So he graciously offers to drive us to Auto Zone for the part he thinks we need.

People, there really are good ones left in this world!

So anyway, we get back to the car, Carlos tinkers around some more.

Then he tells The Dizz to try once more.

And it goes a little something like this:

"errr.errr.rrr.rr....errrrr.errr.r..rrrr.."

{I should probably get a job in sound effects, it's so lifelike.}

But basically, it didn't work.

And basically, Carlos had to go.

Why he didn't want to stay at the KFC parking lot with us...no one will know.

So there we were.

Back to square one.

We called AAA, tow truck came and whisked the car away.

Conclusion:

His car will be in the shop until Thursday.

Something about a head gasket.

$930 bill.

...

I hate you, KFC.