I Met a Weird Guy at McDonald's and It Cost Me Six Dollars


So I'm driving home from Los Angeles and it's 6 p.m. on a Wednesday, so I'm not making very good time. I'm hungry, so I decide that the next time I see a McDonald's or a Burger King or a Carl's Jr. or maybe a Baker's or, heck, even a KFC or a Taco Bell, I'll get off the freeway. So here comes a McDonald's, so I get off and pull into the parking lot. I walk in and it's busy, so the line goes back from the counter to just inside the front door. The last guy in line is so close to the door that there's not enough room for me to stand behind him, so I line up beside him. He's like maybe twenty, with a buzzcut and frayed bell bottoms and, I think, an earring or two.

After about fifteen seconds, he turns to me and murmurs, "Plissinday."

"I'm sorry?"

"Pleasant day."

"Yes. It is."

Another five seconds later. . .

"In all of your travels on this earth, what one occurrence would you say best sums up the absurdity of life?"

I've never really thought about this.

"I've never really thought about it."

"If you thought about it, what would it be?"

"I couldn't tell ya."

"Do you have any dreams or fantasies?"

I'm fantasizing that I'm back on the freeway.

"No."

"What one thing do you think best represents simplicity?"

I gaze straight ahead at the employees scurrying around behind the counter. After a few seconds, I turn to him and say, "Hamburgers."

He smiles. "That's a start."

After another two or three minutes standing in line in silence, he's up. I overhear him ordering something with cheese. I see him getting a tray. I decide my order's to go.

I get my food, get my drink, and wave to the weird guy sitting over by the window with his cheeseburger as I head out the door. He nods back.

I get back on the freeway and decide that I'll get off at the next McDonald's, take my food inside, and eat. I can't stop at another chain; I'd look weird eating McDonald's at a Wienerschnitzel.

I go about five miles and see another Mickey D's. I get off at the Baldwin Park Road exit, but before Baldwin Park Road, there's a connector road. I look at the street sign. It says: "HAMBURGER LN."

Okay. This is too weird. As I'm pulling onto Baldwin Park Road, I decide that if anything else happens unexpectedly on my way home tonight, I'm just going to go with it. No more changing plans.

I go inside the restaurant. I get one funny look from a patron who seems to think it's strange for someone to be bringing McDonald's food into McDonald's instead of taking McDonald's food out of McDonald's. I ignore her and grab a booth. Now I fit right in. I'm not weird or anything.

I have a peaceful dinner. There's a screaming kid, a customer complaining to the cashier that her order's wrong. Everything is normal.

I'm back in my car. Just as I'm about to hit the ignition, a kid appears outside my window. He's carrying a big box.

"Excuse me, sir."

I'm going with it. I roll down my window.

He sets his box down on the asphalt, opens it, and goes into his script.

"I'm in a program that lets young people realize their goals and my goal is to go to the WWF wrestling show in July. You can help me to realize my goal by purchasing one or two items. . ."

He starts to show me the items and describes them one by one. I'm already getting my wallet out.

He's got caramel peanut clusters, some scented candles, a tin of cookies from Christmas which was six months ago but the tin is still in its original plastic wrapper and if I want he'll open it up for me and if the cookies aren't fresh he'll give me something else.

"I'll take the caramel peanut clusters. How much are they?"

"Six dollars."

I don't even like caramel.


Back