About fukking time.
Everytime I think about BK, I get sick thinking about all those damn whoppers and dried up cold ass fries my family and I had to shove down our throats to survive.
The only good thing to come out of that place, besides spicy chicken fries, was this lady and her daughter helped paid for my family, and I's dinner when we were short on cash.
I was going to let my wife and son eat, while I had the last bit of pizza rolls in the freezer at the hotel, but they insisted and help get us a meal along with a few dollars for the hardship.
Crazy that they were trying to find a missing card, but somehow helped my family eat during that hellscape of memories.
But anywho...good riddance