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So, I have this horrible problem. It's not that I'm stupid, or virtually hairless (except my calves, what's up with that?) or that I lack a certain... Je ne sais quoi.
It's that I'm addicted to McDonald's.
Hello, my name is shapu. (response: Hello, shapu!)
I have a problem. I love going to McDonald's. I don't really like the food. I'm not a big fan of the prices. But for some reason, the convenience of this place is just too much to bear when I'm doing things like dogsitting, working out, or breathing.
(response: mumbled affirmations)
Perhaps it's the ever-more-prevalent ad campaign. Maybe it's that the million-dollar Monopoly game is my idea of a retirement fund. Perhaps I just operate with a total sense of impunity since I can't seem to gain weight no matter what I do. Perhaps it's just that I shouldn't be allowed to shop for myself. Whatever it is, I find that I enjoy punishing myself with fatty greasy blandness every chance I get. Can I get a witness?
(response: Amen!)
Today, for example, I went to a Mickey D's. I waited at the drive-through for so long that a car two spots ahead of me, having already ordered, gave up in frustration and left. This seemed to throw off the cashiers, who started screaming to the food-giver-outters that the car directly in front of me had pulled in and was trying to steal food, which they weren't. This also led the cashiers to tell me I owed 24 dollars and 16 cents, when in fact I only owed $4.54.
(Response: Tell us what you did, Brother shapu!)
I told the cashier "No, I only ordered one value meal, you told me it was $4.54," and gave her a twenty. She asked a manager to clear out a different order, apparently the driveaway, and then she turned to me and said, "Alright, sorry about that. Four fifty-four." I told her I'd already given her the money, and she looked very confused, like I'd just told her that instead of my cheeseburger, I'd rather have a venti half-soy half-skim double-shot mocha no-whip. Then she looked down at the bill in her hand, smiled, and resumed innanely pushing buttons and making weird facial expressions at the cash register.
Between pulling into the drive-through and when I finally left, I think I spent about 10 minutes. Ten very agonizing minutes that I think I would rather have spent in an iron maiden. But I will not spend those ten minutes there (response: No!)
I will be at Wendy's tomorrow, worshipping at the Temple of Dave Thomas!
(Response: Joyful singing)
So I ask you, I ask you all: What is your favorite fast food joint?
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