My McObsession with Breakfast

I should explain why breakfast at McD's is such a treat for me after this last McPost

Somewhere around the age of 5, I stopped eating meat which meant no more happy meals. As much as that seemed unfair, I didn't like the meat so much that I found the strenth to give up happy meals for not being forced to eat the burger lest an Ethiopan child find out I wouldn't eat my burger. The meat just skeeved me out. The texture was all wrong, and even as a five year old I was indignant about the shape that they serve the McRib in. I mean, COME ON!! It's straight up insulting to put that sandwich patty into the shape of real ribs with the bones jutting out in a pattern.

When I stumbled on McD's breakfast menu, I felt like a born-again American saying: "Hi! I would like a number 3 with NO bacon and a large diet coke, please!"

To be fair, most all meats disgust me and if I think about eggs and chickens for too long, I can't eat either of those things until I forget again. Oh, it's nothing moral or environmental - I'm just not generally a fan of meats or fish or poultry of any kind. Do NOT tell my children this, please!

Admittedly, and maybe not so coincidentally, my tastes in food have not matured beyond the age I was when I boycotted meats, particularly fast food meats. For a brief time, when McNuggets hit my scene, I gave them a serious try but invariably, I always bite straight into some chunk of grissle and I give up again.

There are exceptions.

For example: a carefully prepared filet stuffed with gorgonzola or bleu cheese fresh from my friend Danny's grill. Danny taught me how to eat steak. He wholeheartedly maintains that the words "steak" and "sauce" used together are quite profane yet used seperately are holy words. He is known for walking into the house on every Saturday wearing his "weekend uniform" of yellow snowboard pants (yes, yellow, like fireman pants, and yes snowboard as in winter sport, and yes even in JULY in the south), with a plain white undershirt tee, and unlaced running shoes. After incoherent grumblings while passing me on his mission to my refrigerator, he rummages around like a hungry bear in springtime until he finds non-moulded food stuffs (generally aged takeout) and then asks in all seriousness, "You got some sauce I can put on this??!!"

This is charming for two reasons: 1. He has done this every single weekend that he lived within an hours drive of us over the past 13 years that we've been friends and, 2. His southern Georgia drawl takes the maniacal edge off his food missions (but, incidently, not his mild lactose intolerance farts). Danny can make one hell of a steak!

Another exception is BACON. You know EXACTLY what I mean about BACON, don't you!?

Thanksgiving - what a meal! I start making room in about August!




O

McSeriously? 10:30am?

Since the time I discovered the salvation that is the breakfast menu at McD's (or Old MacDonald's as my 3 year old refers to it) I have been personally and deeply offended by their breakfast hours. I can remember thinking to myself that by the time I was in my mid-30's surely population shifts and generational consumerism would DICTATE without question that NOBODY wants a hamburger before 11:30am, and on the off chance that you do, a sausage mcmuffin would scratch that freaky itch, right?


Wrong!


Those bastards still cut breakfast off at 10:30.

In my single years, the concept of breakfast shutting down at 10:30 am irritated me because I consistently made it to work with about a millisecond to spare so I never stopped for breakfast. My hips are grateful for the intimate relationship I had with my snooze button. All week long, as I passed the golden arches at staggering speeds, I would shake my fist and promise mad damage come Saturday morning.

By Saturday morning, my hungover ass was as inclined to roll out for a "bacon egg and cheese with no bacon" as I was to wear FMB's.

In presesnt times, the Saturday AM hangover has been replaced by toddler morning breath and PBS Kids BUT STILL, getting out of the house in time to join the around-the-block-I-shit-you-not drivethru line before 10:10am is a feat deserving of an extra hasbrown. And we all know 10:10 to be the magic moment because just like bars at closing time, the McManager sets the clock six minutes fast AND you're never the only idiot craving the McCrack.

By 10:10am, the parking lot at ANY McD's becomes a rodeo circus of McCrack-heads. I always snicker at the dumbasses who parked and went inside because NOBODY in this drivethru line is leaving an inch between thier oversized, overpriced SUV and the oversized, overpriced crossover ahead of them for fear that a hungover 20-something in a miniature hybrid will line jump them. Sorry suckers! You parked! You're not going anywhere until 10:31am.

Did you know that "black friday" is modeled after McD's between 10:10 and 10:30 AM? Seriously, it's some marketing stragety designed to create urgency and minimize waste, right? I mean, who the hell wants a burger at 10:31 am on any given day?

Anyway, can we start a movement or something? Can I speak to your manager? Oh and also, why do they insist on putting the trash can AFTER the pick up window? Puhlease, strategically place this trash recepticle between the pay window and the pick up window so I can make space for new crap!! DUH!





O