I am not going to lie, I fucking love McDonalds. On certain occasions, it is simply a god send, a fast, greasy mess of a god send. McDonald’s only sees me in my darkest of days on 4 types of occasions…
- When it is super late at night and there is nothing else open and I have no food in the house.
- When I am HANGRY and I can’t-stop-wont-stop-for-anything-else-need-food-in-my-face-NOW kind of hangry.
- When I am drunk.
- When I am hungover.
Now those are some seriously legitimate times to require a trip to Mc D’s, I don’t carry around almonds and goji berries with a box of coconut water in my handbag to ‘beat those indulgent temptations’ I just buy the damn combo and get on with it. But seeing as those certain trips to McDoom sort of come with a bit of hunger delirium, and any who know me know that I can barely function if I haven’t been fed, means there is bound to be mishaps right? Correct, because it is me we are talking about here after all….
Even though I am experienced, it didn’t stop me from making a real doozy of a rookie mistake a while back whilst hunger was burning deep inside me for McDonald’s breakfast. I was starved but the petrol light had been on in my car for days so I needed to top up before making the trip through the drive-thru. Now, I know that doesn’t sound like much of an ordeal, but my goodness what an arduous task it is to do in that state, it’s hard enough to get through even when you aren’t dying of hunger!!
I swiftly pulled into the Caltex down the road from Mackie-Doods, unshowered, wearing trackpants and no shoes, sick to the stomach, needing that sweet sweet greasy goodness in my mouth a-sap. I ran in to pay the man for my petrol, ran back out jumped in the car and drove off, dribbling I sped off into the sunrise towards the shimmering allure of the Golden Arches.
I got two meters into the drive-thru, centimeters away from the talking ordering box and my car died…putt…putt…..fart. You forgot to put the petrol in that you paid for Katie Jones you fucking genius.
My hanger took over so I put my hazard lights on and walked to the communication box to explain my transportation situation and my immediate death if I wasn’t to be fed a Mc Muffin combo with 2x extra hash browns and large orange juice for the drink. Looking like Iggy Pop without the tan and a job, I was told as politely as possible to remove my car and myself outta the drive-thru or there will be serious consequences that I can only assume did not involve tender weird bacon and sweaty perfectly round eggs.
The walk in counter wasn’t open yet so I couldn’t even get in that way, despite my banging on the door and begging for just one little early rising hashbrown that I was willing to pay 10 bucks for. Those smug bastards inside did not budge….