...and the burgers stop. Yesterday was my first day of the new regimen-- the bike as a car, the car as a way to keep weeds from growing in the cracks of the driveway, and no stopgap trips to McCorporate Deathburger. Honestly, I can't eat that crap anymore. Ugh. And the people one meets there. Three days ago, I sat down next to a table where an off-duty employee was trying to cheer up an on-duty employee who had just found out that she is pregnant. In looking around, everyone else in the place had little kids. One came up, wanted my fries, tried to grab them, then ran back to her table. From then on, every single customer that came in had at least one kid under three in tow.
Or two days ago, when I walked in and there was no A/C. The same creepy off-duty employee with the Ray Parker Jr. Jheri-curled hair was there, acting as personal greeter to everyone. "Hey howyadoin," he'd say, "nice ta seeya. Your daughter has really pretty hair. How it curls and such. Yeah, really pretty hair." And everyone in there looking as if they had a glandular disorder.
It's the 21st and time for a change and therefore time to put serious mileage on the bike.
2 comments:
Yay, Dave! I haven't eaten at a McDonalds in years. (Probably since the last time I was in one with you.) I will confess to stepping inside one to "use the facilities" out of desperation once on a road trip though.
Happy Solstice!
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