Once in a blue moon, I feel the irresistible need for a McDonalds. Not your daytime McDonalds, with those ghastly gherkins and the like, but the breakfast one, in my case the Double Sausage and Egg McMuffin. Today was that day. I looked at the cereal boxes in the cupboard and all that healthy fresh fruit laid out neatly in in bowls and concluded that it was time to purchase a heart attack in a box. So, off I drove to my nearest branch, retailing in high fat, high calorie stodge, salivating all the way, until that fateful moment when I found the nearest branch was closed. I think I’ve had as many as two McDonalds meals in the last year and, as bad luck would have it, it was down to a simple choice. Give up and go home or drive to a more distant branch. Sod it, I decided. Home it is.
There was no one to blame for this than me. In recent weeks, I have visited a pub on a Monday only to discover it didn’t open on a Monday. I decided to purchase fish and chips from our local chippy, only to find it closed to certain periods between Christmas and now this. On each occasion, I cursed my bad luck until I found, courtesy of Mr Google, that my unnecessary journeys could have been prevented had I checked with him before travelling and not after. If the world heats up even more this year, due to excessive carbon emissions, then it will have been my fault.
I could, I suppose, have cycled to McDonalds. It’s relatively flat and I will have burned off at least some of that cheese, sausage and egg and I’d have been far less stressed using the cycle path instead of sharing roads with so many cars that appear not to have been fitted with indicators. As it was, all I burned off this morning was some petrol.
What I should have done was order my McMuffin through one of those delivery companies. In our road, we are treated to an entire fleet of ramshackle cars and motorcycles delivering unhealthy food to my eager neighbours pretty well every day. This doesn’t appeal to me because you get charged for delivery and, I am told, because I have never done it, many meals arrive stone cold. It’s one thing eating some high fat offal first thing in the morning but it’s quite another chomping through what is essentially cold, congealed fat. But hey, millions love it so whom am I to quibble?
Our local McDonalds is closed until February for improvements, which means of course making it bigger so it can sell more burgers and the like. Once it’s open, I might set aside my feeble efforts at changing my diet and getting fitter by making another attempt at buying another McMuffin and then feeling horribly guilty afterwards. Or I might just wait until it’s closed again for improvements. Given my state of disorganisation, that’s the most likely option.
