Daft Old Duffer returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
It’s some time since I paid a visit to a McDonald’s. I haven’t got anything against the place you understand. I think they provide a quality product in generous quantities for the money, and if you want to use it to turn yourself into a waddling porker, well, that’s your responsibility – nobody else’s.
Couple of days ago however I found myself with half an hour wait for the bus home and with the local McDonald’s just across the road, in I went.
Eat-in or to go?
I ordered a hamburger and coffee. I’m always a bit uncertain at that point. I mean, why a ‘hamburger’ when there’s no ham involved?
Something to do with our ridiculous apology for bombing the hell out of Germany I suppose.
Anyway, ‘Eat-in or to go?’ asked the pretty young thing with the cute cap.
“Eat in,” I said. (Oh, I’m still ‘with it’)
“No old codgers?”
“To go,” she confirmed. Rang it up, took my money, and darted away, all efficient, before I could respond.
Was that a hint? I’ve no idea. Perhaps there was a sign somewhere. “No Old Codgers”
Back she came, beef – no, sorry – hamburger – in a paper bag, coffee in a paper cup with one of those fearsome lids. That’s when I could have could have – and maybe should have – put her right.
But we old folk don’t like to make a fuss, do we?
Hanging out at the bus station
So off I went, consigned to one of those metal seats in the bus station. (Metal seating – I ask you!)
Hamburger no problem. Except I started in eating it from the wrong side and didn’t discover it had onion and tomato sauce ’til the last bite.
The coffee presented more of a challenge. Piping, burn-your-leg hot, in a bendy paper cup (what’s wrong with good old-fashioned plastic?) and with one of those lids that defy you to get it off without major spillage.
Helped by a plugged-in Samaritan
Having carefully read the instructions – pinch and push I seem to recall – I held it at arms length and wrestled with it while the Gods of Modernism had a good chuckle. Then appealed to the girl-child seated nearby. Who removed her earpiece – (Was she deaf?) took the cup and deftly flicked off the lid for me.
“Thanks,” I said. “Is that how you do it?”
I took back the cup, had a cautious sip. Scalding hot, no sugar.
Realised I needed a pee and there was by now just enough time to reach the public loo – situated of course on the far side of the bus station – and get back.
But nowhere to put down the coffee cup.
Dumped the coffee in the rubbish b… sorry, trash can, had a hurried pee, caught the bus home.
Ah well.
