Posts tagged mcdonald's

Rain Check

I told myself I’d have dinner at my apartment tonight, but something about those giant golden arches at the intersection of Boni Avenue and Barangka Drive as seen from behind the driver of the tricycle that I rode on my way home made me change my mind. It was raining quite hard and I was feeling unusually yet pleasantly cold. It was a little wet inside my sneakers and the back of my favorite white Casual Friday shirt looked as if I worked up a sweat in it. In other words, the weather was just the way I liked it. So with my automatic open/close umbrella on hand, my trusty mailman bag over my shoulder, and my old pals, Chris and Caleb, in my ear canals, I went inside McDonald’s, thereby setting out to do what was essentially the cherry on top of another almost perfect day.

People-watching in a fast food restaurant on a rainy night proved to be quite a treat. The first persons that caught my attention were a preschooler and her nanny who I stood behind in line. The little munchkin was wearing a ladybug-inspired raincoat, and to say that he looked cute in it is an understatement. He was beaming at me as I attempted to take a picture of him using Hedwig. But just as I was about to click and capture his smile, her nanny, unaware that I’d taken an instant liking to her pint-sized charge, tugged at one of the wings of his coat and teased him with something she took out from the bag of food she just ordered. I lost the kid to a cheeseburger.

After buying a value meal and two McFlurrys, I settled into a seat by the glass window and went on with my hobby. Across my table was another child accompanied by her parents. She looked frustrated. She probably wanted the Hello Kitty toys on display but her parents wouldn’t let her have any. She was just about ready to tear up when her dad offered her some fries. She saved her tears for later, when she’d eaten all her food and remember that she wanted the Hello Kitty toys on display.

I abandoned the family of three to find two persons who, like me, were eating by their lonesome. They both looked happy, though, with every bite the teenage boy took from his burger and with every twirl the old lady made on her spaghetti noodles. I’d like to think I was just as happy chewing bits and tasting hints of Oreo from my sundae.

Outside, a trio of giddy schoolgirls began writing with their fingers on the fogged up glass window. One of them traced a vertical line, then drew a circle above it. The one on the middle wrote four letters. The last girl produced an umlauted U. Then, below the words, i love ü, they took turns forming the name, Patrick. Whoever this Patrick was, he’s one lucky guy.

I hailed another tricycle to take me to my apartment building. Inside the sidecar was a missing person poster. The piece of paper said the man pictured had been missing for over a week. Looking at his photo and reading his description, I wondered how a heavyset guy with braces, dreadlocks and tattoos could have gone astray. I glimpsed at the driver’s face as he steered the vehicle. The resemblance between him and the guy on the poster was evident. I asked him if he knew the guy. He just shrugged. It made me shrug, too. I guess I’ll never know.

Sometimes, it can’t hurt to let loose of your inner child and just be the playful, mischievous little devil you used to be. I just came from a children’s party which was attended by full-grown working professionals: us. Every man, woman and inner child from our department who RSVPed affirmative to the invitations sent out a week before was present. The party was essentially a joint birthday and sendoff celebration. Five of us turned a year older this month while one member was assigned to work at an overseas affiliate company for a year. The party was held at McDonald’s. It was a welcome change of environment as we came to the venue right after another long, routine-filled eight hours in the office. As expected from a kiddie party, there were balloons floating above the room like neon sentries, party hats featuring colorful cartoon characters and loot bags waiting on a table to be given out as parlor game prizes. Yes, there were parlor games, of course. Although they were of the cheap thrills and fast rides variety, the consensus among us kids at heart was that, quite simply, they were loads of fun. But, decidedly, not nearly as fun as when a special guest showed up right after we finished eating our Chicken McDo and McSpaghetti meals. We wreaked havoc while eagerly waiting for the guest’s arrival. One of us had a chair above his head. Another grabbed the yellow Caution: Wet Floor sign and waved it around carelessly. We were hoping, wishing that it would be him. The suspense was killing us. It was a riot. Then, the collective excitement soared to a climax as, finally, he appeared. It really was him. In the flesh, purple fur and all, he was the one, the only, Grimace. And we went absolutely gaga over him. Whatever he was supposed to be, whoever was underneath that costume, no matter how repulsive the smell of his fur was, we didn’t care. We were having the time of our lives with this most lovable of all fast-food chain mascots. We were letting the inner child in each of us break free, letting it go crazy and take pictures with him. We didn’t care. We were smiling and laughing. We were smiling and laughing with no less than Grimace himself. And that’s all that mattered tonight. That is, until we realized that upon waking up tomorrow, we’d all be our usual grown-up and serious-minded selves again. Now ain’t that just something to grimace about?

Sometimes, it can’t hurt to let loose of your inner child and just be the playful, mischievous little devil you used to be.

I just came from a children’s party which was attended by full-grown working professionals: us. Every man, woman and inner child from our department who RSVPed affirmative to the invitations sent out a week before was present. The party was essentially a joint birthday and sendoff celebration. Five of us turned a year older this month while one member was assigned to work at an overseas affiliate company for a year. The party was held at McDonald’s.

It was a welcome change of environment as we came to the venue right after another long, routine-filled eight hours in the office. As expected from a kiddie party, there were balloons floating above the room like neon sentries, party hats featuring colorful cartoon characters and loot bags waiting on a table to be given out as parlor game prizes. Yes, there were parlor games, of course. Although they were of the cheap thrills and fast rides variety, the consensus among us kids at heart was that, quite simply, they were loads of fun. But, decidedly, not nearly as fun as when a special guest showed up right after we finished eating our Chicken McDo and McSpaghetti meals.

We wreaked havoc while eagerly waiting for the guest’s arrival. One of us had a chair above his head. Another grabbed the yellow Caution: Wet Floor sign and waved it around carelessly. We were hoping, wishing that it would be him. The suspense was killing us. It was a riot. Then, the collective excitement soared to a climax as, finally, he appeared. It really was him. In the flesh, purple fur and all, he was the one, the only, Grimace. And we went absolutely gaga over him.

Whatever he was supposed to be, whoever was underneath that costume, no matter how repulsive the smell of his fur was, we didn’t care. We were having the time of our lives with this most lovable of all fast-food chain mascots. We were letting the inner child in each of us break free, letting it go crazy and take pictures with him. We didn’t care. We were smiling and laughing. We were smiling and laughing with no less than Grimace himself. And that’s all that mattered tonight. That is, until we realized that upon waking up tomorrow, we’d all be our usual grown-up and serious-minded selves again. Now ain’t that just something to grimace about?