I like Ferragamo shoes, trips to Paris with my daughters, caramel frappachinos at Starbucks, and McDonald’s. I don’t eat the food there, but the coffee is supreme, and the people- watching can’t be beat. The price of senior coffee is so fair, you wonder how they can make a living. The several McDonald’s in our city are all owned by our good friend, who by the way is the inventor of the quartrer-pounder hamburger and we are always greeted with familiarity. We are an ethnically diverse city, which sometimes leads to interesting conversatiions, and certainly broadens our view of travel destinations we will probably never take. I have a different understanding of the few homeless persons who sometimes wander in out of the rain to keep warm and buy an inexpensive meal. Young families can afford to bring small children in for a McDonald’s treat. A few people bring their laptops and work in a quiet out of the way corner. Two long-time employees who clean the place are refereshingly accomodating, and the maintenance man has become our maintenance man. One of the owners is godfather to his children. The small elderly cleaning lady from the Philippines has some health issues, and loves to tell me all about them. Her English is not good, so I only understand a word or two now and then, but enough to give sympathy when needed. She always gives Dr. Advice a small container of catsup when we are leaving, because I told her once it had licopine in it and was good for him. The man who does the tables on Saturdays is a former Marine whose hearing is nearly gone, and has some short term memory problems, but his knowledge of the Vietnam War is impressive. And I admit to having a certain amount of reverse snobbery when friends give me a pitying look while comparing their favorite coffee shops. Yes, I like McDonald’s, It offers more than fast food if you look.
“Not Your Average Chicken”
by kaytisweetland rasmussen