Samuel W.
Yelp
I just spent forty inestimable goddamn minutes waiting for food in the drive-thru.
*record scratch*
*freeze frame*
How did I end up here, you ask? Let's go back to the beginning.
Pollo has always suffered from lengthy wait times, especially when it comes to the grilled chicken. You know what, though? It's so fucking delicious that it's usually able to be overlooked. There are other things that suck a little about this place--it's like pulling teeth to get any condiments around here no matter how many times you ask--but, again, they're mostly just quirks.
So today, though an exception, was just like every other time here only on steroids.
After all my visits here, I can only arrive at one conclusion: Pollo Campero hates people that enjoy white meat. If you're a savage and into any part of a chicken's awful poopy tasting legs, you're in luck.
Fancy a titty or two? Fuck you.
It's like they're frying up chickenpedes around here because the ratio has to be two breasts for every hundred legs.
I place my order--three pieces of grilled white meat and a side of beans--and the lady gives me the total and tells me to pull up. Pretty standard stuff.
I got to the window, handed over my card and she swiped it. She disappeared for a little bit and then came back with a puzzled look.
"I'm sorry... I was wrong. They just made more thighs but no white meat, I guess. So, like... it will be like twenty minutes."
*internal sigh*
"I can give you three thighs instead?"
I can probably lick my own ass for free if I strain hard enough, so no thanks (call me).
"Nah, I'll just pull forward and wait."
Time marches on. Twenty minutes pass and I'm sitting in my car balls deep into the 'let's google random shit' game before I heard a tap at the window.
"Hey, uhhhh.... uhhh *incoherent mumbling* so like the chicken, yeah, twenty minutes or so."
"What? It was twenty minutes... twenty minutes ago? Twenty more minutes?"
"Yeah, like.... don't worry, we'll hook you up with grilled."
He trotted off.
My googling becomes more feverish as I wonder how far down the rabbit hole I can venture before the hunger consumes me. I see some sort of birthday party happening out on the patio right next to the car and several employees coming out to goof around and giggle.
The hunger grows.
The forty minute mark arrives and I'm finally broken. A quick glance in my rearview mirror assured me there was no one else behind me, so I threw the car into reverse and pulled back up to the window.
"Hey, uhhhh... like, I said twenty minutes."
"Yeah, dude, it's been forty. I just want a refund at this point."
"Like, I don't know what to tell you... sorry?"
Bloodlust engaged.
"I can give you a cash refund, I guess."
I went to Pollo for a quick, slightly-better-for-me meal so I wouldn't be eating like a dumpster.
Update: I just finished eating like a dumpster elsewhere.
Thanks, Pollo.