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Tuesday, December 28, 2010, I spent the day out in the Mojave Desert, doing one of my favorite things: Railfanning BNSF's busy railroad line through the desert, which happens to be the busiest rail line in North America. After a hard day of photographing trains, I kicked back at the motel and powered down a couple of beers, which rendered me in no position to drive, as I won't drive if I've even smelled a beer, let alone enjoyed a couple of them. By 1700 in the late afternoon, it was dinnertime, so it was a matter walk and fetch for dinner. I decided to walk west on Main Street and visit the first restaurant that I came across. Since I'd eaten the night before at Jenny's Grill Steak and Mariscos I kept on walking. After walking nearly a mile, the first restaurant I came to was Kentucky Fried Chicken, so tonight, the dinner was on the Colonel.
Photo: It's twilight time at KFC on Main Street, in Barstow, California. What is there to write about the KFC outlet in Barstow? They're all pretty much a cookie cutter image of one another, and this outlet is one of the modern ones, so if you've been in one, you've been in them all. So I went up to the order counter, greeted the bored girl at the counter, and placed my order of four pieces of chicken, biscuit, cole slaw and mashed potatoes, paid for it, and watched another staff member fill my order. Easy. Fast. Painless. Simple. Yes, all of the above until one very unusual "customer" entered the restaurant, just as I was picking up my order and about ready to hike back to the motel.
Photo: The bored counter girl prepares my order of the original version of the Colonel's chicken. You know what? I really like Kentucky Fried Chicken! A skinny, obviously homeless guy walked in, smelling like a homeless person, and reeking of booze. The guy approached the counter and drunkenly started yelling at the girl behind the counter, saying that he was hungry and that he wanted a meal. Now I can certainly sympathise with a homeless, hungry person, and I might have even purchased this dude his dinner, but this guy somehow had found the means to get very drunk, and was very obnoxious. When the girl declined, he started ranting and raving, and sort of walking around in small circles. By this time, he had the attention of everybody in the restaurant, and customers were starting to stare. The girl behind the counter looked like a deer caught in headlights... and a big, burly customer suggested the drunk should leave. He then shouted, slurring his words, "I'm Robert Jones and I want someone to give me some money..." people were getting uncomfortable. Then, Robert reached into one of his pockets, and a couple of quarters came tumbling out, and fell on the floor near a tall chair. Robert almost fell on the floor, as he bent down to retrieve his coins. In fact he got down on all fours, and felt the floor for his coins, like he couldn't see. (I know he can see; he made eye contact with me...) Customers were staring at his antics. After he found his coins, he sort of pulled himself up using the tall chair, slumped in it, crossed his hands on his lap, and proceeded stare at the counter. Although I'd taken a series of photos of his antics, I'd had enough, and decided to start on the mile hike back to my motel, so I could enjoy my delicious meal.
Photo: Robert Jones braces himself against the counter and waits for the order girl to appear.
Photo: After not getting his wishes fulfilled, a drunken Robert Jones starts turning in small circles, pacing the floor, and alternating between muttering and yelling slurred rants.
Photo: After Robert dropped his coins, he fell down on his knees in his effort to retrieve them. Note the people in line are beginning to notice his antics.
Photo: Robert Jones moves the tall chair out of the way as he searches for his lost coins.
Photo: After retrieving his lost coins, Robert wobbly pulls himself up off the floor, and tries to stand up, but he needs to hang onto the tall chair, or he'll most definitely fall to the floor, in his highly inebriated state.
Photo: After getting up, Robert slumps in the chair, folds his hands over his lap, and stares straight ahead at the counter. The show is mostly over, and the real customers are now ignoring drunk ol' Robert Jones. On the way out of the restaurant, I was approached by a woman and her daughter, and the woman offered to prostitute her 17-year old daughter to me! Being a married man, and being slightly over 18 years in age, I declined her kind offer. Oh how I love Barstow on a Tuesday evening in late December!
Photo: Yep, it's finger lickin' good and tastes like the chicken you'd find at any one of the thousands of KFC restaurants scattered around the globe. Oh yes, the chicken and the sides were excellent, and my dinner tasted just like every meal of the Colonel's chicken that I've eaten in Sacramento, Denver, or for that matter, Tijuana. Kentucky
Fried Chicken Copyright(c) 2011 eRench Productions. All rights reserved. This site has been on the web since December 22, 2002.
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