Unhelpful

I wish fast food places would concentrate on fast food instead of all the other crap whose sole purpose is to make sure I want to start smacking people with baseball bats.

McDonald’s is well known for creating obstacles. Mini Beanie Babies are a prime example. I’ll have ten minutes to spare, and sure enough, I’ll get behind a mother and daughter who need to have a ten minute discussion about which beanies they have and which they should get. Then, when they get up to the counter, McD’s is invariably OUT of whichever one they want. Then the mother and daughter must confer some more. The clock ticks. Eventually, five minutes later, they’re ready to place their Beanie Baby order. Oh yeah, and I guess they’ll want some FOOD WITH THAT, TOO. Mom will have the Quarter Pounder with cheese, extra pickle, hold the mustard. Her little girl wants - of course - the Happy Meal, and after asking for a specific toy, she’s told they’re out, which requires YET ANOTHER DISCUSSION.

The local Burger King - not to be outdone - has trumped this by the new sign next to the cashier - “SING A SONG FOR FREE MEDIUM FRIES”. God dammit, I already knew I was in trouble when I got in line behind two large parents and their three kids. Then when I saw the sign, I was glad I still had my sunglasses on because I knew I was giving them the look of death. So - again, after deciding what food they wanted (it’s not allowable for them to consider their lunch desires before they walk in the door, by the way), they see … the sign. The cashier points the microphone (turned off, thank god), and the oldest boy steps up after deciding that singing “Happy Birthday” would be especially funny. He opens his mouth and out comes one of those Star Search voices - the kind with the fakey nearly-falsetto tremelo - the kind that white trash love. He’s doing his thing and sings “Happy birthday dear …”, and looks up at Mom for guidance. Mom offers “Pokemon”. YES LET’S SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO POKEMON DEAR GOD KILL ME NOW PLEASE STOP THE UNBEARABLE PAIN OF LIVING. Then the middle child steps up and offers the same song in Hebrew. I’m no linguist, but I find it odd that the English version has TWO distinct lines, the first repeated three times, yet the Hebrew version is the same single line repeated four times.

To add insult to injury, I then have to stand in line while they decide what to drink at the self-serve fountain. DAMMIT ALL TO HELL, HOW ABOUT A TASTY GLASS OF MY PISS?

I have a suggestion: a line for adults only labelled “no bullshit”. You can’t buy toys there, you can’t ask questions, you just walk up and ORDER SOME GODDAMN FOOD. Anyone who stalls to look at the menu is referred back to the regular line - you know, the one for people who think that fast food restaurants are for buying toys instead of getting a fucking quick lunch.

The alternative to this is to store my pent-up rage in a roiling knot of hate until it explodes in a delicious display of horrific violence.