Barfly has eaten many things when we’ve experienced what the average drinking denizen refers to as “da drunk munchies”. First of all, its time to all start using the grown-up version of the phrase: drunky-dining, a la carte (French for “on the floor”). Second of all – why are you looking at us like we’re weird? We’re not some Frenchie – that’s raw meat and burnt taters we’re scarfin’ down-there!
On a recent evening we made a stop between drunk and drunker and searched for some epicurean delights. Drunker was waiting for us, so we had to hurry up – especially because we stood him up last time when we skipped right to ‘passed out in the stairwell’. What’s that thing that people eat when they have only a few moments to ingest? The phrase seemed so close – like a dream we had about the suburbs. . . . hasty eatings? . . .expeditious nibbling? It was too hard to figure out what the common people called their dining on the fly. We decided that we’d simply have to drop into the McDonald’s across the street and ask.
It was strange. Much different than our normal gobbling haunts. No one was swaying back and forth while they gorged on a slice of pepperoni. There was nary a girl on stilettos to be seen – much less one with her cheeks stuffed full of garlic knots.
There was only a single man – slouched over in the corner next to his shopping cart. Due to the number of plastic bags the carriage contained, we suspect that the cart also played the role of the gentleman’s BFF. We were heartened to see that he was holding a prize from one of those children’s meals. How surprising that they give out box cutters these days!
Even though the décor made us grimace - there was something in that place that seduced us. It wasn’t the strange man with the red afro and the clown makeup (we’re pretty sure his name is Lynchme McDonald). It wasn’t the clerk Franika - though her gum chewing and rainbow of 4 inch-fingernails did make us salivate. The thing that gave a sly smile and wiggled its hips at us? Why, the value menu! Saucy and cheap, just how we like ‘em.
We’re not sure what we were eventually served – we just know that it was shaped like a hamburger and cost us about $.34 with an extra large beverage included. The gigantic cup was also the perfect receptacle for necessary burger-purging session – what savings!
The best news about the night’s dining experience? We only had to eat three french-fries and we reached our drunky-dining quota of 1,450 calories. Not to mention the refreshing change of pace in the morning. The vague feelings of pizza related guilt were replaced by deep misgivings about agra-business. We even got to keep the plastic toy!
McDonald’s – with over 1 billion served, we figure you’d be able to find one yourself. Unless you’re a moron, but then you’re probably on your way to Taco Bell anyway.
Happy Meal – 3 olives – Yeah, that little toy dog we got is cute. You know what’s cuter? A boxcutter.
Getting to say “Supersize me” – 1 olive – They actually kind of forced us to say this – must be a brand-identity ploy. We thought our original ‘Yo, bitch, supersize that shit’ got the point across swimmingly.
Figuring out that it was “fast food” that we were having – 5 olives – Though we feel that our first guesses were slightly more sophisticated, we suppose this phrase plays better with the typical soccer mom. Fast, because they’ve got the kids in the back of the minivan. Food, because they don’t have quite enough cellulite.
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