Macca Smacka

Okay, I admit it.  I’ve just been to McDonalds.  I don’t feel good about it.  I don’t even know why I did.  I wasn’t hung-over or anything, I think my body told me it was time for my next ‘fix’ and so I reluctantly adhered to my body’s plan.  Is that called addiction?  Surely you can’t be addicted to McDonalds can you?  Well, yes you can.  In fact we’re all a little addicted to Macca’s.  How do I know this?  Well, how many times have you actually enjoyed Macca’s?  Actually left with great satisfaction in your mind and belly? Answer: None.  If your answer is on the contrary, then you’re probably a young parent of three children all named Britney and no doubt you own a Staffordshire Bull Terrier who terrorises everyone as you stand outside the job centre on a Tuesday ready to collect your benefits.  The fact that you’ve accessed a computer to read this blog probably means you’ve stolen it.  Give it back!

A little extreme?  Maybe, but you get my point.  I may frequent McDonalds more than I should, but I don’t think I’ve ever departed with both a happy belly and mind.  That’s not what Maccy D’s is about.  It’s a drug we’re all hooked on from an early age.  So much so that I don’t even count it as food anymore.  How can you?  One burp and you’re hungry again.  No, every now and then my body tells me of the fix I crave, and nothing else will satisfy that narcotic hunger.

People may decide that the McDonald’s regime is one of evil manifest, but you’ve got to take your hat off to that Ronald McDonald fella.  He’s no clown (yes he is).  It’s the one brand that’s the same anywhere in the world.  The menu is the same.  The interior is the same.  The language is the same.  You could pop to Mars and order a Big Mac.  Of that there is no doubt.  And let’s face it; McDonald’s has saved all of our lives at least once.  Don’t deny it, you’re in a foreign country, no-one speaks English, everyone is eating scorpions and you’re desperate for some sense of familiarity.  Up pop the golden arches.  Like a family friend.  Someone you trust.  Somewhere safe.

I remember being on holiday before mobile phones were, well, around.  If you lost your friends or family there was no way of contacting them. You didn’t arrange a meeting point – because let’s face it, you’re English – so where should you go?  The golden arches of course.  The sign shines like a beacon.  Follow the beacon.  You’ll be safe here.  Your friends will be here soon.  Everything’s going to be okay.  Shhhh.

I do, however, think McDonald’s offers more than just chewing and safety.  It’s the one business in the world which appeals to every single person in every walk of life.  Imagine that in Dragon’s Den.  A business that appeals to every single person in every walk of life.  Even Deborah Meaden and her chins couldn’t say no to that.  Don’t believe me?  Well, go to any McDonald’s in any major city in the world.  In there you will find; British people, Spanish people, Italian people, American people, French people, Chinese people, Japanese people, Indian people, Congolese people, Isle of Man people, white people, black people, blue people, off-grey people, Christian people, Muslim people, Jewish people, Actors, Street-cleaners, Bankers, people with limps and Rik Waller.  I could go on.  In fact the only person you wouldn’t see in there are probably Vegans.  But even if they wanted to get in, I doubt they could afford the strength to push the door open.

McDonald’s for me is the place to people watch.  And who can deny the constant array of top quality weirdoes who can be found in every one of their restaurants.  What other business in the world can boast to have the best weirdoes in their premises, anywhere in the world, any time of day?  Even Disneyworld can’t compete with the hundreds of original characters who are churned out day after day, week after week, year after year.

If eating, safety and weirdoes weren’t enough to convince you of the service McDonald’s provides, then perhaps we should discuss toilets.  Yes, toilets.  Macca’s has been providing toilets for public use since day one.  Caught short on a day trip shopping?  Have no fear; I can spot the golden arches from here.  Out on the piss and broken the seal?  Don’t worry, golden arches.  Amazingly, Maccy D’s is the only place in the world where English folk forget their sense of politeness and use the lavatories without embarrassment of not purchasing anything from the premises.  Just today in their Shaftesbury Avenue branch, I saw a sign that read; “Toilets are for paying customers only”.  Oh how I laughed. Whatever Ronald.  You’d have more luck convincing people that your salads are healthy.

With such an array of offerings, surely there can’t be another string to the bow?  Well, I have thought of one.  During the snowy season when the government was moaning about the salt grit shortage, surely it would have been wiser to turn to the one place which houses the most salt in the world.  Oh how we could’ve utilised all those salt sachets along the hazardous roads of our great nation.  Better still, laden the road with Fries and Big Macs enticing all the pigeons in the world to congregate in one place giving us a massive opportunity to rid ourselves of the fuckers for once and all.

So if you enjoy the pleasures of eating, safety, people, weirdoes, toilets, de-icing and vermin enticing, then McDonalds is the place for you.   And don’t worry; it’s only a matter of time before they introduce cottaging.

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