Oh, Ronald, where art thou?

The other day, I grabbed a quick and cheap lunch at McDonald’s. 

Let me pause so you can sigh and wonder about my poor food choices. 

It’s just down the street from the station and the giant 79-cent diet coke sucks me in.  Add extra ice and that baby gets me through the Jazz Ride Home and then some.  My first moment of delight was when I realized someone within the local McD’s organization figured out how to use prepositions!  You see, for quite some time, when ordering via faceless speaker, customers where subjected a pre-recorded voice not belonging to the actual person working the window, who offered the following script. (Be sure to pause haltingly at each period)

Hi. Welcome to. McDonald’s. Wouldyouliketotry. Our new ice caramel latte. On your meal today?

Each time I heard it I wondered if the people who answered “yes” wound up with a soggy bag of coffee flavored fries and McNuggets nestled in caramel-drizzled whipped cream.  Drove me batty.  Even if I did like coffee, which I don’t, I couldn’t bear to order that.  I felt my mother, all my high school English teachers, and a couple of teachers from middle school wincing.  Well, on this day, that delightful little frothy coffee was actually offered to go WITH one’s meal, rather than ON one’s meal, which seems much more appetizing to me.

Anyway, I’m attempting a mission to wean myself from the devil’s lunch window, so I thought I’d pass on the burger and opt for chicken instead. I know, parts is parts, but I try to fool myself into thinking McNuggets are a somehow healthier option. As I waited in the drive thru line, the fry jones kicked in.  Before I knew it, my mouth was ordering the MIGHTY KIDS MEAL.  This was so I could get six of those tasty pressed chicken blobs, the crack-sprinkled Mickey D’s fries, and whatever toy was offered that week.  If you have ever been in my station office, you understand.  Random toys are always available to help ease stress and the fast food kids’ meal has been vital to procuring these plastic diversions.  That day’s score, by the way, was a pair of brightly colored Barbie seahorse barrettes, one in shimmering pink and the other in sparkling purple, designed with a four to six year old in mind. My friend Erica now occasionally sports the purple one in her blonde locks.  As I uncrumpled the bag, inhaling the sweet, glorious smell that is only a literally heart-stopping deep fryer moment, I first thought, “There must be a training session where they teach you how to put the fries in the bag up-side down every single time. There’s just amazing consistency throughout the industry.”

Then, I pulled out the McNuggets box.  There it was, emblazoned on the top of the package, pretty as you please…McNuggets Share-Me-Nots.  Share-Me-Nots?  Share-Me-Nots?!  Are you kidding me?  McDonald’s is now marketing selfishness to my kid?  Okay, I don’t actually have a kid, but I was one and I’ve known a lot of them. I even know a few now.  And, as a parent, what’s one of the first things you try to teach your kid?  That’s right: Share.  Share your toys, Share your space with your sister. Share this and share that.  It’s kind of a social skill, don’t you think?  So, I’m not really sure I want McDonald’s, even in jest, to encourage kids to be selfish and to be piggy.  I mean, even I offer a nugget or two to a pal and always pony up fries when the office ladies are lured in by the scent.  But, that aside, I really do wonder about this.  I’m sure there are much bigger issues to worry about as a parent, like maybe why the hell we feed our kids fast food anyway? But, I miss the days when a trip to Ronald’s place meant a freaky-looking clown splashed on everything, instead of sarcasm and a corporate logo.  Probably a good thing I don’t have a kid, at least not until I kick this French fry habit. And, definitely not until McDonald’s makes their food out of, well, food.