Austin, TX

On the way to the March Against Hate yesterday, my friend Brian and I realized we were starving balls. There was no particular reason we stopped at this McDonald's other than that it was on the way. And I was craving--simply craving--some McNuggets.

It took 20 minutes to finally get to the window. We spent that time bitching at everyone ahead of us to place their order already and move along. "It's not a complicated menu!" "You should already know what you want!" "Oh my God, what is wrong with you people?!"

And I love that once it was our turn, my friend said "Uhhh...Give me a sec." Hypocrite!

I leaned over and said in my best Mira Sorvino: "Do you have a businesswomen's special?
Employee: A what?
Me: You know, like a lunch....for businesswomen?
And right on cue Brian says:
"We're due in Tucson. You know, for a business thing."
Employee: Huh?
Me: Can we just get a No. 1 with a Diet Coke and a 10-piece nugget to go then?

OK, so we had our giggles and we were probably way more amused with that than we should have been.

The employee at the window didn't look a day over 13, and he promptly handed me a Happy Meal Diet Coke. I know I've been using a new anti-aging cream but does it look like I'm old enough to want a Happy Meal? He also couldn't seem to master the skill of putting Diet Coke in a cup. I think the machine was malfunctioning. His manager came over to help and she smiled politely.

We finally got our food and I devoured it in the car. I suppose Big Macs and McNuggets can sometimes only truly be appreciated during a massive hangover. I'm lovin' it.

Honolulu, HI

I'm telling you, sometimes I get so fucking SICK of eating well. I mean, shit, some of us have our heads stuck so far up Gary Danko's ass that we can taste his fucking liver (it's a delicious acquired taste!) but one can't live on a diet of truffles alone. PERSPECTIVE gives you the power of discernment; you've gotta know both class and crass, otherwise who the fuck are you to say x is "better" than y? This is EXACTLY why I watch Jerry Springer RELIGIOUSLY. And let's face it, this is ALSO why you read my worthless reviews: culture requires barbarism, so pull your fucking nose out of the air and swim in the shit with the rest of us you snob! I guess what I'm trying to say in my typical maladroit, profanity-laced way is: DON'T SHUT YOURSELF OFF FROM EXPERIENCE. Also, I'M A WHORE FOR FAST FOOD, SO FUCK OFF. Anyway, if you want the BEST of the WORST, you should stop by McDonalds. Every morning between the ages of twelve and eighteen Mom would drive me through McDonalds to pick up an Egg McMuffin and a Diet Coke before dropping me off at the back gates of my school. I'd saunter into homeroom at 7.45, say hello to Mr. H, and chow down while listening to the daily bulletin. That's right - EVERY. DAY. It pains my black, perpetually depressed anarcho-poetic heart to say this, but there's a part of me that loves -- NEEDS -- structure, so I held my McMuffin routine close while the winds of adolescent mania swirled about me. Proust had his madeleine; I have my Egg McMuffin. So much change is happening right now at home -- I'm an Uncle, my parents are beginning their long walk off into the sunset, questions of health and well-being are surfacing -- that I felt like a stranger. I needed something familiar; I needed McDonalds. This McDonalds, like the other ones in Hawai`i, has a number of local-style menu choices - satisfactory saimin, portuguese sausage or spam with eggs and rice, McTeri burgers (blech!), deep-fried taro pies (FAR BETTER than the apple pies) -- but it's also the McDonalds of my youth so I of course ordered an Egg McMuffin and Diet Coke. I'm happy to report that nothing here has changed, even though so many things have.