Hedland mum Tricia Harwood’s carried plenty of responsibility over the years, but nothing has come close to the pressure of a 500km KFC run to Karratha in the days of yore.
Tricia, 32, is a mum of newborn twins. She volunteers at her nieces school’s canteen and once provided three fake references for close friends.
But all these have failed to come close to the pressure of delivering on a list of KFC orders back in the day before The Colonel came to Hedland.
“It took years off your life,” she said.
“The second anyone heard you were headed to K-town, they’d be in with their orders: a bucket of chicken, four zinger burgers, a family feast, wicked wings, a 24 pack of nuggets.
“The second you got back with your greasy cargo, they’d come out like rats from the sewer – scratching at your fly screen to get a few scraps of salty bird.
“Child-rearing is a cakewalk in comparison.”
In years since, Kentucky’s most famous export has set up a permanent operation in Hedland, flash-frying low-grade chicken for the masses and helping keep the town’s cardiologist in a brand new car every year.
Thinking back, Tricia admitted the cartel came with its perks – when a single run could turn a hefty profit.
“You could charge those dogs anything,” she said.
“$50 for fuel, $60 for fuel. Fuck, they’d pay twice over if it meant getting their fingers greasy.
“Ah they were good times.”
