Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I hate McDonald's.

I hate McDonald's because I walk a whole city block to get my Quarter Pounder with NO CHEESE for lunch, even though it's gross and greasy and will take ten years off my life and also five dollars out of my wallet. I stand in line because I know that even though my stomach will hate me in twenty minutes my mouth will love me in five. I ask for my Quarter Pounder and specifically say, "WITHOUT CHEESE," clearly and loudly for my McAssociate so that she does not screw up and give me cheese on my hamburger. I wait around for my meal, watch her put the box affixed with a receipt that reads, "NO CHEESE," in the bag, and I leave feeling fine, knowing that if the receipt says there's no cheese, there's definitely NO CHEESE ON THAT BURGER.

Then, five minutes later, after walking through traffic and going up nine stories in an elevator, I sit down and open the hamburger box. What do I see?

CHEESE. THE HAMBURGER IS COVERED IN CHEESE. THERE'S A MILE OF CHEESE ON THAT BURGER.

I hate McDonald's because I spent five dollars and fifteen minutes getting lunch and I only got to eat french fries and drink a Coke.

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