We really did think twice about stealing the air hockey equipment. No shit, the game room at the Bunny Hutch Novelty Golf And Batting Cage Recreation Extravaganza is the place to go to be scared straight and also to get your sex tested. I recommend it wholeheartedly. But okay, I think we’re done with the weekend trips and with all our kitschy cavorting for the moment. No kidding, it was getting to be like the Monkees opening credits around here. It is time to take off the dorky legionnaire hats and focus, people. Or at least clean stuff. I did a lot of that this weekend, too.
And since I’m cleaning out my closet, let me tell you about my thing with McDonald’s and how I went there for the first time in forever last week. Because I still crave McDonald’s sometimes: these days I go for months and months without going there, but when it comes down to it, I still seriously dig the stuff. O McDonald’s food, you taste so red and yellow and awesome. I love how the cheeseburgers are not “cheeseburgers” so much as they are warm soft ketchuppy pickle pillow pies; I love the fries, even though I read Fast Food Nation and know they’re made from potato starch and holograms. I understand, and yet I want; so once in a great while I give in and answer the clowny call of Clan McDonald. So the other day I went to the drive-thru.
I used to do this a lot more often. Back when I did Weight Watchers, I learned that the contents of a McDonald’s Happy Meal amounted to something like eleven POINTS (not too bad, considering), so I ate Happy Meals. Though it should be said I would have also eaten endangered baby pandas braised in orphan tears if Weight Watchers had told me they were twelve POINTS or less, and this is one reason why I had to stop doing Weight Watchers. But never mind that: there was a time when I ordered a lot of damn Happy Meals. Enough to get over the dopey irony of the enclosed toy. Like at first when I’d order and they’d ask if the toy was for a boy or a girl, I thought it very whimsical and joie de vivre of me to yell “I’m a GIRL!” at the drive-thru speaker box. La la la! But then I’d have this shitty little gender-informed trinket, a Bratz doll or a tiny copy of Cosmo or whatever, and it would sit in my car until I threw it out. And try giving a friend’s kid a cheap toy from a Happy Meal he/she didn’t eat. It’s awkward and poignant. The bad kind of poignant. I suppose I could’ve just ordered the hamburger and the small fries and soda without ordering the Happy Meal, but that would’ve broken the sacred and pathetic contract I had with myself wherein I was allowed to eat at McDonald’s as long as it wasn’t a fully grown-up decision. Yeah, I know.
Eventually I made a point to just avoid getting the toy. But this is harder than you’d think, especially when most of my McDonalding consisted of furtive drive-thru visits. “Boy or girl for the Happy Meal?” the speaker box would ask. I tried saying, “No toy, please,” or, “I don’t need a toy,” or “You can leave out the toy,” but it almost never worked. Maybe it’s because the McDonald’s drive-thru employees expect to hear one of only two answers and don’t really know what to do when presented with a None of The Above, so they either ignore it or mishear “no toy” for “boy.” Oh, and then another problem was that I was going to McDonald’s too fucking much, so I stopped going.
I’d pretty much forgotten all about the toy problem until the other day, when I ordered a Happy Meal out of old habit. This time, I decided, I would really put my foot down about the toy thing. Because, really, it was bad enough that I was eating McDonald’s and the last thing I wanted was another creepy souvenir. “Is that Happy Meal for a boy or a girl?” the drive-thru voice asked.
“Okay, look, I don’t need the toy. It’s just for me. Please don’t put one in. I’ll just throw it out. No toy. None. Okay?”
There was a long pause. “Oh, okay,” the drive-thru box said. Some odd code came up on the LCD screen, something like B/G: N/A. I’d gotten through to them at last. I drove around and paid at the cashier window. Then I drove to the food window, which had a different employee than the one who’d take my order. The guy was holding an open bag and staring at a printout slip in his hand.
“Um, this order is blank? For where it says what kind of toy for the Happy Meal?” he said.
“Yeah, no toy,” I told him. “Because it’s not for a kid. It’s just for me. You know?” He peered into the car as I pointed to myself. I wanted to make sure he noticed I was driving and everything. He nodded slowly and turned back to fill the bag.
As I was driving away I felt something at the bottom of the bag. It was a teddy bear in a plastic baggie. A pink bear. For fuck’s sake.
The whole McDonald’s story tickled me.
But this:
“And try giving a friend’s kid a cheap toy from a Happy Meal he/she didn’t eat. It’s awkward and poignant. The bad kind of poignant.”
Killed me. I’m dead now.
Thanks Wendy. I think you’re terrific.
Ha! I’m glad someone else out there will admit to craving McDonald’s. I thought I was the only one. My mom is actually a big Happy Meal fan and she always gives the toys to me, even though I really don’t want them. Most of them I end up donating to Goodwill, still in the baggies. One time when I stopped at McDonald’s on my way to work to get a Happy Meal and the cashier dropped the paper bag when she was handing it to me. I opened my door to get it and she said she would make me another one. I was like, “No, it’s okay, I’ll just pick this up; it’s in a bag,” but then the manager came over and insisted they give me another one. Then the manager LEANED OUT THE DRIVE-THRU WINDOW to pick up the bag on the ground, gave that to me, and then gave me another entire Happy Meal. It was seriously bizarre.
We used to bug my mom to buy us Happy Meals soley *for* the toy. Maybe that’s why the employees can’t imagine that anyone wouldn’t ask for one. We’d space out our vists to once a week as they rotated toys so we could collect all four Pound Puppies or Care Bears or whatever.
I never read Fast Food Nation, but after I saw Supersize Me I distinctly remember turning to my brother and saying, “I could really go for a Big Mac now.” They could probably show me footage of butchers slaughtering cows and I’d still pine for those delicious burgers.
McDonald’s is SO DAMN DELICIOUS. I was a vegetarian for five years, and I still wanted a Big Mac. And the fries, oh my God. They’re the only fries in the world I like. I need them every once in awhile; not every day, but every couple of months.
Besides, nothing in the world can cure a hangover like McD’s fries.
Great entry, now I feel just slightly less silly about this… My sister and I went to the drive-through the other day and got Happy Meals. We were thoroughly amused by our “for a girl!” toys and teeny meals. Then we ran across the parking lot to take our pictures under a sign that was partially burnt out so that instead of reading “American Homes” it read “American Hoes”. We are 26 and 31 years old…yeah, I’m gonna blame it on the food additives.
I get Happy Meals occasionally (yeah, thanks, Weight Watchers). I have to tell you that I have an American Idol-themed electric guitar toy that I carry around with me and still pull out of my bag and play, when the mood strikes. Ian finds this hilarious. This is why he’s marrying me I guess!
Eleven points? That’s half a day’s allowance. Kind of a lot of points for one meal.
Eleven points? That’s half a day’s allowance. Kind of a lot of points for one meal.
Worst part is, there are people I actually KNOW who think, God save us all, that those Happy Meal toys are a great investment and will fund their retirement–kind of like the poor misguideds who continue to hoard Beanie Babies and Longaberger Baskets (and my MIL who saves triplicates of each state quarter lest they actually be worth 25 1/2 ¢. Gimme a break–and here’s your f-in’ sign.
Deb
I think you order the “All American Meal” when you want the happy meal without the toy. I, myself, get upset when it’s not in the box with the cute finger holes at the top. It’s a nostalgia thing.
They’re usually good if I say no toy.
However, I had a Happy Meal last month and gave the toy to my retired mother. She told me recently she has been collecting them because she makes altered crafts out of them. She wasn’t kidding, because when I delivered the same pink bear to her, she showed me a bucket of bears she had bedazzled and beaded. They bear (haha!) little resemblance to the happy meal toys at this point, but you know what we’re all getting in our Christmas stockings.
I have never knowingly had a Happy Meal (I think my mum didn’t believe in burger bars when I was of an age) but like PastaQueen I got hungry watching Super Size Me… even though I’m vegetarian and it would never occur to me to go to McDonalds. Fortunately, there was no McDonalds in reach of the cinema. (I went to the African café and had baba ghanoush instead. Not the same, I know.)
I too am slain now from reading this post. I’d like to know WTF, when did Happy Meals become gender segregated? I guess I have not had one in way too long. I just remember getting some gender-neutral crap like two legos or something. BUT… does anyone remember the sand pails they did in the summer? Do they still do that? Those were awesome.
Damn, I’m hungry for tiny burgers now.
Oh dear lord, yes, I crave the McDonald’s anti-burger badly. No matter how many times I try to explain to my husband why some fancy schmancy organic actual meat burger is no replacement for the McD’s version, we both end up scratching our heads. You described the experience perfectly. Pickle pillow pies indeed.
i’ve been meaning to check you out for-EVER and am finally doing so (almost a year after i left chicago – figures, right?). and yes – mcdonald’s fries are some space-age shit. you know what else is great? their hash browns. when we were in vegas and wanted to conserve funds for things like “margaritas!” and “blackjack!”, we would just get a hash brown and coffee from mcdonald’s for breakfast every day.
mmmmm – processed food and gambling. heaven!
I feel a strong kinship with the McD lovers. Some foods taste best when made from the cheapest and crappiest ingredients known to man. Like mac-n-cheese…I specifically prefer the type made with an envelope of cheese-y powder to something hamemade and baked in real cheese. And grilled cheese sandwiches taste so much better on spongy white bread with American cheese goo in the middle, fried on a grill that hasn’t been cleaned since communism fell.
It’s odd since I appreciate true cheeses…flavorful, textured, imported, fragrant, name barely pronounceable. And I love a dense whole wheat bread made with twigs and bark. Just not in mac-n-cheese or on a grilled cheese. Some things are just sacred.
Sometimes? I miss McRibs.
White Castle is my secret mistress, if you want the truth. How can you combine organ meat, reconstituted onion flakes, old pickles, and a dinner roll, and somehow turn them into something I will probably be eating on my death-bed (though I might not have known it was going to be my death-bed before I started eating)? I’m not asking that question hypothetically, I really want to know.
That said, I indulge this gustatory love-thang even less than my dearest one indulges her Mickey D dose, because, well, I value the use of my internal organs, and White Castle is straight up no way to show your intestines that you love them and want them to be happy.
the bunny hutch! is that the place with the amazing, crazily old commercial that’s all like “NOVELTY GOLF!!!! NOVELTY GAMES!!!!”, that i cannot help but sing along to every single time i comes on? i sure hope so. i haven’t been there yet but i keep meaning to go. i’ve lived in chicago for almost a year and i feel like i’m not making good enough progress on these very important goals.
also, unrelatedly: i have been reading your blog for a couple of years, and i never thought about the fact that you lived in chicago until a few months after i moved here–you’d posted something about the francisco el stop and i was like, “whoa. she probably lives within a couple of miles of me!” because i live about a half mile from there and that’s my stop, too, on the rare occasion i actually take the train.
and then i felt like a stalker when i started thinking, “wow, i wonder where she lives!!!! maybe we could be FRIENDS one day!!!!” friends, with four exclamaion points.
i’m sorry.
that is the evil of the POINTS plan. if it’s under 10 points, i’ll probably eat it, shrugging off the whole idea that i’m supposed to use my points to eat MORE healthy food, not so i can have teddy grahams for lunch.
also evil: the reason they’re so insistent about giving you a toy is not so girls get dolls and boys get trucks, but for market research. mcD’s needs to know how many kids of what gender are buying their happy meals. the toy is just a convenient way to find out. this goes for adults too, it’s all logged into their cash registers when they ring you up. man, woman, approximate age, repeat customer, etc.
The first time I was asked if the happy meal was for a boy or girl, I thought they were asking me to prove it was for a child. I got so confused! Mine was for my son, but he was playing on the playground, so he wasn’t around. I guess I thought they didn’t believe me!
I am currently loving the iced coffee and snack wraps from McDs. Please don’t tell me how many points that is.
I have always felt so insanely guilty for finishing watching Supersize Me and heading to McDonald’s. Yes, it was horrifying (at the end where all of the food rots so slowly/not at all). But also… delicious.
I love McD’s breakfast. Probably best for me that it is only served once a day, or I’d eat there all the time. Now – once a month or so.
I am a coffee snob, but there is something so uncoffeelike about their new iced coffee that I find it eerily delicious.
Clearly it is addictive and I am a junkie.
Gah! Did I just admit that?
That’s so funny, I just went to McD’s this weekend! Anyway, one possible solution – other than the all American meal which not all McD’s seem to offer, is to tell them it’s for a toddler. Most of their Happy Meal toys are not safe for little kids. Some of them carry a toddler toy, so this may not be the best choice, but might be more meaningful since people seem to respond better to “It would be unsafe” instead of “I don’t want it”.
Well if you think about it, of course McD’s is delicious, they’ve spent millions on scientifically perfecting it and making sure it tastes perfect for the least amount of money. And that is why I love science
Just remember, every time you eat at McDonald’s (bonus points if you have seen Super Size Me and still eat there) the self-righteous guy from Super Size Me feels a tremor in the force and a small wave of sadness. For my money that’s a good thing.
11 points ain’t no thing. I’m on 30 points a day (it was still working, so I stayed there even though I got down below the 30-point-per-day weight range… I don’t think there is any benefit in eating less than necessary) so to me, that doesn’t seem like a lot. But in any case I haven’t eaten at McDonald’s for probably close to a year, because I haven’t really wanted it that much. Next time I get the McD’s craving, whenever that is, I will happily go. And I will probably get the 2 cheeseburgers meal too. There’s something to be said for healthy food most of the time, and there’s something else to be said for the unique deliciousness that only McDonald’s can provide.
Wendy, your description of the McDonald’s cheeseburgers is, in a strange way, so amazingly accurate that it makes me uncomfortable. My gut feeling is (and this makes no sense to me) like it’s TMI about the sensory characteristics of the cheeseburgers. How’s that for a weird reaction? Either way, the description is dead on.
did you eat at the ‘hutch? the first time i walked in, there were fireballs coming off the grill. truly awesome.
green river on tap! terrifying bunny in the green vest! glaring owner! barely paved parking lot! more lime green than you can shake a stick at!
“I would have also eaten endangered baby pandas braised in orphan tears if Weight Watchers had told me they were twelve POINTS or less”
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA. *breath* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA. *dead*
That is so entirely the truth. And why I had to stop doing WW too.
This entire entry is total genius.
“pickle pillow pies”
DAMN, I just spat beer on my monitor..
Wendy, yer the best!
This may be partly your parents’ fault. We gave you your first McDonald’s hamburger when you were 2 years old. I was amazed that you knew exactly what to do with it: grasped it in both hands, held it rightside-up, etc. Perhaps McDonald’s has become embedded in the American genetic code like the hard-wired knowledge of the Neanderthals.
“warm soft ketchuppy pickle pillow pies” — that is the most perfectly accurate description of a McD’s cheeseburger I have ever read! LOL!!!
This is an evil post. It is 2:26 am and I have been attempting to stifle a McD’s craving since approximately 1:14 and then I read about the ketchuppy pickle pillow pies and… where are my pants? And my keys. I’m outta here.