A Love Story

A little while ago I got involved in a relationship that I wasn't ready for, and, like most, it ended badly. I've been a little ashamed to talk about this, but I think that enough time has passed that I should be able to let everyone know what I went through.

This whole thing happened so suddenly that it's hard to remember exactly where all of this started, but I think that it had something to do with processed meat. You see, I've always respected McDonald's for their world domination, but their food has never been a favorite. Still, for some reason a few weeks ago I found myself craving Chicken McNuggets. I don't even know why I turned to them, but it must have been that they are so plump and juicy, in a way that no marshmallow-free meat could ever compete with. Anyway, I quickly became addicted, and found myself going there night after night (encouraged by the fact that they are now open 24 hours a day).

At first it seemed as innocent as anything else, but things heated up quickly. They released a new spicy chicken sandwich which more than redeemed their previous chicken upgrades, and they gave me handfuls of coupons for free fries and drinks when I would buy the new chicken sandwich. Naturally, I started buying it a lot. Then they gave me more coupons for free cookies and milkshakes, and then they gave me some kind of frequent-eater card so that I could get a free meal after buying a few. Who knew that McDonald's even had such a thing? Where was all of this coming from? There was even a cute girl that would always be free to take my order, as if it was coincidental. I don't know if this had ever happened before, but it was clear that I was being courted by a fast food restaurant, and they were winning me over.

I guess there's various stages of love, and I think infatuation is usually the first. For a while I couldn't get enough. I was eating there every meal of the day. A few times I'd stop by and then before I had even driven all of the way home I'd feel like I needed another fix and I'd have to go back. Even Beto's hadn't gotten such traffic. I think that deep down I knew that I was headed down an unhealthy path, because I would try to throw away the boxes before I got home so that no one would know what I had been up to.

Well, maybe I'd gotten my hopes up, or maybe the infatuation wore off and I was simply left with only the reality of the situation, but one way or another things changed for me. It started when the Orem store gave me the old chicken sandwich (which isn't even supposed to exist anymore) and charged me the new chicken sandwich price for it (when it used to cost a dollar) and wouldn't even take my coupon for the free fries and drink. I wasn't too upset about the coupon, but I didn't realize that they'd given me the wrong sandwich until I was already driving home, and then I was stuck with the bitter remorse of having gone there. I wanted to quit then, but I guess sometimes you stick with something out of inertia even after you realize that it's not good for you.

The next time I visited the local store, I found that the cute girl at the counter, who was eager to give me coupons and have me be a frequent customer, had been replaced by a large stocky woman who looked like she had been lounging in the deep-fat fryer. She was just as eager to have me as a customer as was the last girl, but when she pulled a wad of wrinkled and ketchup-stained coupons out of her pocket to give me, I was considerably less eager to be the customer. I haven't been back since.

Well, my self-disgust has slowly faded, and now I feel like it all turned out for the best. I guess I should have known better (on several levels), but at least now I've learned not to get my hopes up, right? Right?