McDonald’s French Fries couldn’t be any more delightful….unless they were being held by Sofía Vergara in a bikini. Just MY thoughts. And the level of sadness, that is felt when I come to the last french fry in that cute little red envelope, that hugs them so nicely to keep them warm while they wait to be devoured, can be as gratifying as a hot loaf of Mancini’s bread and a pound of cold butter.
McD’s is my meal of choice when driving on the turnpike. I’m like Pavlov’s hyper-salivation dog… turnpike ramp.. BOOM!… I drool to the point I’m thankful that I have those WeatherTech car mats. If only one could pre-pay a McD’s tab with EZ Pass!
On this day.. there I was… driving… I could tell when I put my hand into the fry-hugger that I was just about out. There was one… a crunchy one at that. One of those that you put between your teeth and slowly crrrrrruuuuuuunch down on. I made sure to keep my eyes on the road while my fingers searched like a crazed-blind spider for more fries. Nope! Just one left.
I slowly pulled the lone fry out of the fry-hugger on the passenger seat and toward my mouth. It was at that point, my forearm hit the top of the, 16-inch, 79-0z. super-sized pop cup in my center-console cup holder and…………………………………………………………………………the last french fry fell to the spot down in between my center console and the driver’s seat. I tried to reach down into the crevice to get it but it might as well have fallen into a place that required a bathyscaphe for rescue.
Two attempts to get the thing resulted in 2 inadvertent lane changes so I had to leave it be.
Fast forward 168 miles and, when I finally had a chance to rescue it, I realized, it had more hair and fuzz on it than a dog. Sadly, I placed it into a garbage can but WITH a proper, respectful burial ceremony. How could I not, his friends gave me so much joy and I let him down by fumbling!
Bottom line: Hey McD’s… please make a french-fry-eating straw that I can extend between my passenger seat and my mouth, (please) YaJagoffs!
