In 2005 I wound up eating at McDonald’s only twice – in March and October. In 2006 I ate there in March and decided I wouldn’t eat there again until October. Michael and I went this March and had a lovely impromtu picnic in the park. I have been jonesin’ for McDonald’s since August. There is one about 200 yards from where I wait for the bus several times a week. I’ve had to use my steely willpower to keep myself from walking over there. Also, I didn’t want to miss my bus.

Michael asked me if I wanted to eat there for lunch today. Even though it was three days before the scheduled month, I said yes. We walked to the closest Mickey D’s, about 10 minutes away. I ordered the Big and Tasty meal (no ketchup, add cheese). Michael got his usual, the double cheeseburger meal with an extra double cheeseburger.

The burger was hot, fresh and juicy, even though the meat never really tastes like meat. What the hell is it made of anyway? 100% pure beef, my ass. There was a 2 minute wait on fries. Praise the Lord, I will wait 20 minutes for fresh fries. The fries were golden, crunchy, with that slight sheen of oil that you burn the roof of your mouth on. We had a leisurly lunch, people-watched and then started the walk back home.

Two minutes into the walk, my stomach protested and then my intestines took up the chorus. I told Michael, “I have to go to the bathroom.” He said, “We’ll walk this way. It’s faster.”

It almost wasn’t fast enough. I don’t know if it was the 44 grams of fat I had just ingested (!) or if my stomach was just not used to eating anything other than homecooked food. I do know, however, that that will be the last time I eat at McDonald’s.

Excuse me, I need to… um…. hang on…. I’ll be right back….