Now, they’re just f***ing with me.
Yesterday, I went to McDonald’s for lunch (no judgement!). I ordered my double cheeseburger, ketchup only, Coke as the drink meal, as I always do. Yes, I slow down the line with my “special order” burger, but shut up. My $4.86 is just as good as yours, so there.
Anyhow, I was feeling particularly hungry that day, so I ordered it large-sized. You know, what they used to call supersize. But some dispirit made a movie about them and called it “Supersize”, and well, you know the rest. Now they cut your tongue out if you even breathe the word, much less say it.
So, I ask the lady if she can large-size that for me.
“Sure, and since you have made your meal a large size, you get a free cookie. Would you like oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip?”
I’m sorry, what?! Was there even a choice in that question?
You’re going to give me a 300+ calorie sugar-laden cookie as a “gift” because I ordered my 1800+ calorie meal large-sized?
Was the self-loathing not evident enough in my voice as I gave in to the fast food gods to order my double cheeseburger with large fries and a large Coke? Did you feel that wasn’t enough?
You’re ok with making me hesitant to even show my yuppie face at Window #1 to pay for my large meal with my no-cash-holding-only-credit-card-available self? And then pull up to Window #2 and wait for them to hand me the bag, which as it hits my passenger seat, it implants a visible grease stain and proceeds to permeate the car with the not-so-easy-to-hide stink of McDonald’s on the go?
Is that what you want from me, Mr. Creepy Clown mascot guy? To surrender my pride? Give in to your heavenly salted french fries that still beat every fry I’ve ever had (that do not involve truffle oil and parmesan cheese)?
IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?
“Chocolate chip, please”, I say.