This started out as a journal post one day but I was feeling creative so while the main story is true I added/changed/omitted things here and there just for shits and giggles. It was fun and I still got my point across from my original journal entry.
I am driving home from watching my son play basketball a.k.a. have an all sports free-for-all for toddlers for 45 minutes at the YMCA when I realize that I am getting kind of hungry. I decide to splurge and go for McDonalds. As I’m driving over to said establishment I pray to some/any God/s that may or may not exist to let it not be crowded because my truck has no air conditioning and it could easily be 110 degrees inside my vehicle at that moment. When I think about having to sit in a long-ass, lunch-rush, drive-thru line I have flashes of horror movie scenes where my skin actually starts to melt from my body. Wouldn’t want that now would we, God? As I am pulling in I let out a small sigh of relief. I arrived before the lunch rush. “YES!” I say to no one in particular. I must zone out because all of the sudden it is my turn and I am pulling up to the computer screen that may or may not show me what I am actually going to order depending on the competence of the “Drive-Thru Specialist” taking my order. I panic a little because I have no idea what I want but I try to work it all out in my mind quickly. I think about a happy meal because the portion sizes are appropriate for an adult and it will be more of a normal calorie count for my splurge but I quickly reject that idea because I remember that they don’t put any veggies on the happy meal burgers. I scan the menu for a grilled chicken sandwich but it looks like that is unavailable as well. Could this shit be any unhealthier? I finally just decide to go with a #2 which is the Quarter Pounder Combo. I’m asked if I want this medium or large to which I respond medium while marveling at the enormity of what Americans deem perfectly acceptable portion sizes. I order bottled water for my drink as well as kids chocolate milk because I am kind of in love with chocolate milk. I pay for my artery clogging, sodium enhanced bag of food and think of nothing more while I drive the rest of the way home. I pull everything out of the bag and get everything set up. I sit down in front of it all and actually have the nerve to feel excitement about digging into my splurge meal and then I open the box that contains my sandwich. --the box that is supposed to contain my bun sporting a thin beef patty piled high with veggies and condiments galore. What I encounter instead is a giant version of a happy meal cheeseburger. What the fuck?! Since when did they stop putting everything on burgers by default? I didn’t know I had to specifically ask for things to be put ON the sandwich. I though that people only had to ask for specific things to be taken OFF the sandwich. So, all hope crushed, I sit staring at what I can now essentially call my “Super Huge Happy Meal”. The irony is not lost on me that I had clearly decided in that line not to get a Happy Meal, let alone a ginormous one, with no toy to boot! Well, what the hell? I start eating the shit anyway. While I am chowing down I notice that McDonalds has started putting their nutrition labels on all of their packaging. I clearly love torturing myself so I start tallying up what the damage will be once I am done. This disappointing experience of a meal has added up to more than 1100 calories. This is almost half of my daily allowance of calories. I am lucky I am currently nursing a baby and can eat massive amounts calories or I would be up caloric creek without a paddle. Once I finish eating, I stare blankly at the table and ponder all of this for a few moments. I mentally shrug, get up, throw away my trash and head into the bedroom to hang out with my boys. Fast food sucks!
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