My brother Oracle (his self-ascribed poker call-sign) twenty or so years ago was living in Wimbledon with our sister “Doc”, directly opposite KFC! It’s the dream location as he shares my addiction to the dirty bird but does not suffer from my KFC retention problem.

Oracle one day was hungover and desperately hanging-out for a 2-Piece Feed so he headed across the road.

Oracle (to the KFC worker) – “Hi, could I please have a 2-Piece Feed and swap the drink and the roll, for a piece of corn?”

KFC worker Lenny – “I’m very sorry, no.”

Oracle (quickly doing the maths) – “But you’re 70 pence better off.”

Lenny – “Swap the drink and roll for a buttery-golden-corn?”

Oracle (with a smile) – “You got it.”

Lenny – “I’m very sorry, no.”

Oracle – “I feel we’re getting nowhere here Lenny. Could you ask your manager?”

Lenny – “I know what she’ll say.”

Oracle – “What?”

Lenny – “I’m very sorry, no.”

Oracle tried a new approach. He hunkered in closely to speak man-to-man.

Oracle – “Leeenny, we’re reasonable men. You’re just doing your job, and doing it damn well by the way. Can you make this happen for me? Nobody needs to know but us Lenny, if you know what I mean.”

Lenny – “I’m very sorry, no.”

Oracle (now feeling just a tad angry) – “I’m feeling just a tad angry here Lenny. You’re potentially ruining my finger-licking-good experience.”

Lenny – “What if everybody wanted to do it?”

Oracle – “What if word of your customer-pleasing attitude gets out, there is a ground-swell and you’re suddenly awash with customers trying to get some of the buttery-golden-corn swap action that results in you making an extra 70 pence each time?”

Lenny – “Yeah. We may run out of corn.”

Oracle – “Here’s an idea, (my brother beckoned for Lenny to lean closer and cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled). ORDER MORE FREAKIN’ CORN!!”

As a result the Shift-Manager came around the counter.

Shift-Manager – “What’s going on here?”

Now I am not passing judgement in any way (being 114.4kg I am in no position to), however the Shift-Manager was… obese.

Oracle – “The discussion seems a bit out of the jurisdiction of young Lenny here. With just a tiny bit of flexibility, you have the opportunity to make an extra 70 pence profit for the owner of this fine establishment and keep one of your most regular customers, extremely happy by just swapping the drink and roll for a corn. A win/win if I ever heard it.”

Shift-Manager – “I’m very sorry, no.”

My brother thought he should use her name. He dropped his gaze to the name tag, pinned near her highly-stressed buttons.

Fatima.

Now this next part sounds made up, but I kid you not, this is how it happened.

Oracle, flustered, accidentally got tongue-tied on the name.

Oracle – “Listen here, Fat… Fatima.”

Oh no, he thought, did I just stutter and call this obese Shift-Manager, FAT Fatima? Maybe she missed it.

By the time he raised his eyes, she was fuming. Fit to burst!

Shift-Manager Fatima (she pointed right into Oracle’s face) – “LIFETIME BAN!”

Oracle – “Oh God no! I’ve got a two-year lease.”

Shift-Manager Fatima (yelling out) – “STAFF, IF THIS MAN EVER SETS FOOT IN HERE AGAIN, RING THE POLICE.” She waddled back to the office.

My brother left, distraught.

He sat at home for two days, going cold turkey (excuse the pun) and feeling like his world had come to an end. Living directly opposite KFC and not being able to walk in for a fix, is a situation akin to torture for either my brother or myself.

That was until he thought of… sending Doc!

So the charade went on for about three weeks. Doc would buy the stuff he needed and sneak it back to their unit (via the unit’s back door so Shift-Manager Fatima would not see).

Until…

One day Doc’s in the KFC queue. She feels a chubby little Shift-Manager-Fatima-finger, poke her on the shoulder.

Doc froze.

Shift-Manager Fatima – “You’re in here a lot, with your Australian accent ordering buttery-golden-corn with your 2-Piece Feed.”

My sister was totally freaked out, but she stood mute.

Shift-Manager Fatima – “Reminds me of another Australian, who received a… lifetime… ban! You wouldn’t know anything about that would you??”

Silence.

Shift-Manager Fatima – “KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU BUY FOR SOMEBODY WHO’S ON A LIFETIME BAN??”

Doc – “OF COURSE I KNOW!”

My sister in reality had no idea what happens if you buy KFC for a lifer.

Shift-Manager Fatima – “I’m watching you.”

So Doc sheepishly bought KFC for Oracle, herself and their friend James who was due to arrive at their place any minute and snuck her way back into their unit.

Later, their doorbell rang and Doc got up to let James in. When she let out a squeal Oracle, buttery-golden-corn in hand, rushed to the door.

He saw my sister, ashen. In front of her stood Shift-Manager Fatima, puffing from having crossed the road.

Shift-Manager Fatima – “LIFETIME BAN FOR YOU MISSY!”

So there are now TWO lifers from Wimbledon KFC. Both my siblings.

True story.

And by the way, it’s not the first time my brother’s done something stupied, check it out (https://writehandman.com.au/2016/03/20/how-to-offend-at-a-mothers-gathering-a-blog-by-jase-gram/)

Check out my new writing business, which allows me to claim at parties that I am in fact, a professional writer (www.hornswoodexpress.com.au). It’d be REALLY awesome if you left a comment on my blog, Share via the Facebook button below, or just give the Facebook post a thumbs up. Cheers.