I’d had a hard day, punctuated by anger, pain, and death. Yes, really. It says something for the misery of McDonald’s that I suddenly craved it.
Since the age of, oh, about 14, I haven’t gone to McDonald’s. But small children have changed all that: I’ve tried to persuade my seven-year-old nephews of the merits of Milano and Eddie Rocket’s, but the shininess and marketing allure of McDonald’s has always won out. I usually go for the Filet-o-fish meal, while they each demand a Happy meal and only eat half.
McDonald’s are currently offering four medium value meals for just €20, which is a reasonably substantial saving if you’re bringing the kids or sneaking in yourself. Knowing that McDonald’s is no more filling than eating a bag of sugar followed by a bag of salt, myself and the equally depressed SnackBox shamefully bought four of these meals to share. It was filling for all of about half an hour. Then we regretted it and wanted more. We feel much better now, but I don’t think it was thanks to McDonald’s. Just don’t go there if you’re actually hungry.