KFC

I forgot to mention, but during my ordeal this morning, I asked the customer service lady if there was anywhere good to eat once I went through security. I swear, the first thing she said was, "well, there's a KFC upstairs." I interjected with disgust (don't get me wrong, I love me some fried chicken, and I suspect the quality of chickens at New Zealand KFCs outpaces America's, but it was morning and I definitely said good) to which she responded, "it's our favorite."

I'm sure she was attempting to speak for the whole country. The funny thing is, I don't disbelieve her. I saw a ludicrous number of KFCs while I was in New Zealand.

She went on to say there was some other stuff upstairs, so off I went. I settled for a pub/cafe (also not a rare thing, which perhaps balances the apparent KFC proliferation) where I could get a breakfast.

As it turns out, this story as an epilogue. Are you curious about the epilogue? Do you want to know? Do you want to know?!

There was actually better food past security. Which, of course, is what I had originally asked about...