 |  |  |  |
| The Mother of All Bad Ideas |
| Just great. Now who's going to deliver my paper? |
Comments? Email me at JimiChanga@SurlyTaco.com
Back to Salsa
Boy, is my face red. Not too long ago, I wrote an article defending McDonald’s. Yeah, their
food sucks, but suing them for making you fat is like punching yourself in the face and suing
God for giving you hands. But when I drove past my local McDonald’s today, I uncovered an
insidious plot to create chaos and murder innocent Americans. At first I found it hard to believe
they’d actually do something this transparent, but then again, I couldn’t believe it when they
added fajitas to the Dollar Menu when there’s a perfectly good Taco Bell right down the road.
So it has to be true. The McDonald’s drive-in is going to be open 24 hours a day.
This is probably the mother, or at least the great-uncle, of all bad ideas. First of all, who the
hell needs a Big and Tasty (which might be the great-uncle of all misnomers) at 4:30 in the
morning? And second of all, at what point will they stop serving dinner and switch over to
breakfast? But most importantly, do they realize how many people are going to die as a result
of their unbearably convenient hours?
Picture this: a group of young twenty-somethings go out for a night of drinking, carousing, and
giving themselves scalp cancer from using too much hair gel. At the end of the night, the bars
are closing and they’ve all struck out. Unable to satiate themselves sexually, they decide to go
get some grub. Because they’re young and hip and own I-Pods, they decide to go to
McDonald’s just like the commercials said to do. But the regular restaurant isn’t open, only the
drive-thru is. And there’s the rub. They can’t just walk there. So they all pile into the one guy’
s Scion XB and head for the golden arches.
Sounds like a happy ending in the making, right? They all get Quarter Pounders and
McNuggets and ride off into the sunset, right? Wrong!
While our heroes are making their way to the drive-thru, a family of seven is heading back from
Sunday School. See, they’re all so poor they have to work Sunday mornings and therefore
have to attend Sunday School at two in the morning. Despite their economic shortcomings,
they’re all awfully nice people and the kids are button-cute. They’re all looking forward to
getting a solid three hours of sleep before it’s off to work in the meatpacking plant for Mom and
Dad and newspaper routes in bad neighborhoods for the kids. They pull up to a stoplight, wait
for it to turn green, and then start to cross the intersection.
Meanwhile, our boys in the Scion are beside themselves with anticipation. They can almost
taste the French fries. Unfortunately, the driver’s had one Caramel Appletini too many. He’s
drunk as a social worker, and weaving all over the road. But his friends don’t care, because
they’re about to eat McDonald’s. Suddenly, a red light pops up out of nowhere. It’s the middle
of the night, so the driver doesn’t bother stopping. He blows through the red light and t-bones
that family of seven I told you about earlier.
In some vehicles, the family might have had a chance. Too bad for them they were driving a
Kia, which is more or less a Hot Wheels car with an actual motor. Double too bad for them
they had to sell the air bags to pay for gas to get them back and forth from their two a.m.
Sunday School class. The Scion, weighed down by four hungry and trendy morons, crushes
them, smearing their good-natured bodies all over the road. Now seven innocent people are
dead, four guys are really hungry, and my paper isn’t going to get delivered because the paper
boy looks like a deconstructed peanut butter and jelly sandwich. What if there’s a coupon for
Pop Tarts? The ice cream sundae ones aren’t as gross as they sound, they’re actually pretty
good.
Now I’m going to have to go Pop Tart-less, and all because McDonald’s irresponsibly left their
drive-in open all night. What the hell made them think this was a good idea? All the other 24
hours joints out there, like IHOP, Denny’s and Waffle House, don’t have drive-thrus. You don’t
need a car to sample their wares, you can just take a taxi or make a hobo give you a piggy-
back ride. That way, you can safely satisfy your urge to stuff your colon with disgusting grade-
D meat, while at the same time not killing my paperboy and making me miss out on my Pop
Tart coupons. Everybody wins! Well, except for the losers who hang out at Waffle House.
They lose. I mean, come on, it’s like God told Moses to gather two of every degenerate and
stick them all someplace out of the way. Oh well, I guess that’s the price you pay for having
your hash browns covered and smothered (although I know a chick downtown who’ll do that
for a bar of soap).
There is one silver lining in this cloud, though: maybe Taco Bell will follow suit and stay open
24 hours. I wouldn’t need any damn Pop Tarts if I could get a Mexi-melt at six in the morning. I
swear, those things are like deep-fried orgasms. Mmm…
I think I need to change my pants now.
food sucks, but suing them for making you fat is like punching yourself in the face and suing
God for giving you hands. But when I drove past my local McDonald’s today, I uncovered an
insidious plot to create chaos and murder innocent Americans. At first I found it hard to believe
they’d actually do something this transparent, but then again, I couldn’t believe it when they
added fajitas to the Dollar Menu when there’s a perfectly good Taco Bell right down the road.
So it has to be true. The McDonald’s drive-in is going to be open 24 hours a day.
This is probably the mother, or at least the great-uncle, of all bad ideas. First of all, who the
hell needs a Big and Tasty (which might be the great-uncle of all misnomers) at 4:30 in the
morning? And second of all, at what point will they stop serving dinner and switch over to
breakfast? But most importantly, do they realize how many people are going to die as a result
of their unbearably convenient hours?
Picture this: a group of young twenty-somethings go out for a night of drinking, carousing, and
giving themselves scalp cancer from using too much hair gel. At the end of the night, the bars
are closing and they’ve all struck out. Unable to satiate themselves sexually, they decide to go
get some grub. Because they’re young and hip and own I-Pods, they decide to go to
McDonald’s just like the commercials said to do. But the regular restaurant isn’t open, only the
drive-thru is. And there’s the rub. They can’t just walk there. So they all pile into the one guy’
s Scion XB and head for the golden arches.
Sounds like a happy ending in the making, right? They all get Quarter Pounders and
McNuggets and ride off into the sunset, right? Wrong!
While our heroes are making their way to the drive-thru, a family of seven is heading back from
Sunday School. See, they’re all so poor they have to work Sunday mornings and therefore
have to attend Sunday School at two in the morning. Despite their economic shortcomings,
they’re all awfully nice people and the kids are button-cute. They’re all looking forward to
getting a solid three hours of sleep before it’s off to work in the meatpacking plant for Mom and
Dad and newspaper routes in bad neighborhoods for the kids. They pull up to a stoplight, wait
for it to turn green, and then start to cross the intersection.
Meanwhile, our boys in the Scion are beside themselves with anticipation. They can almost
taste the French fries. Unfortunately, the driver’s had one Caramel Appletini too many. He’s
drunk as a social worker, and weaving all over the road. But his friends don’t care, because
they’re about to eat McDonald’s. Suddenly, a red light pops up out of nowhere. It’s the middle
of the night, so the driver doesn’t bother stopping. He blows through the red light and t-bones
that family of seven I told you about earlier.
In some vehicles, the family might have had a chance. Too bad for them they were driving a
Kia, which is more or less a Hot Wheels car with an actual motor. Double too bad for them
they had to sell the air bags to pay for gas to get them back and forth from their two a.m.
Sunday School class. The Scion, weighed down by four hungry and trendy morons, crushes
them, smearing their good-natured bodies all over the road. Now seven innocent people are
dead, four guys are really hungry, and my paper isn’t going to get delivered because the paper
boy looks like a deconstructed peanut butter and jelly sandwich. What if there’s a coupon for
Pop Tarts? The ice cream sundae ones aren’t as gross as they sound, they’re actually pretty
good.
Now I’m going to have to go Pop Tart-less, and all because McDonald’s irresponsibly left their
drive-in open all night. What the hell made them think this was a good idea? All the other 24
hours joints out there, like IHOP, Denny’s and Waffle House, don’t have drive-thrus. You don’t
need a car to sample their wares, you can just take a taxi or make a hobo give you a piggy-
back ride. That way, you can safely satisfy your urge to stuff your colon with disgusting grade-
D meat, while at the same time not killing my paperboy and making me miss out on my Pop
Tart coupons. Everybody wins! Well, except for the losers who hang out at Waffle House.
They lose. I mean, come on, it’s like God told Moses to gather two of every degenerate and
stick them all someplace out of the way. Oh well, I guess that’s the price you pay for having
your hash browns covered and smothered (although I know a chick downtown who’ll do that
for a bar of soap).
There is one silver lining in this cloud, though: maybe Taco Bell will follow suit and stay open
24 hours. I wouldn’t need any damn Pop Tarts if I could get a Mexi-melt at six in the morning. I
swear, those things are like deep-fried orgasms. Mmm…
I think I need to change my pants now.