No drive-thru at McDonalds

It was humid,

sticky, and sweaty

The man on the radio exclaims

That so early in summer, it’s so hot already

And driving through rush hour

On an extended lunch break

At 2 in the afternoon

I turn the station to find another tune

My mouth as dry as my mood

Perspiration ran down my back,

Down my forehead,

Into my eyes,

My professional attire soaked through

Like a cheap disguise

I pulled off at the first strip mall, in my distress

Why the hell bother

A McDonald’s “express” ?

Thru the parking lot and steam

And once inside

A sensory assault of AC, hot grease and fries

From clear across the room,

A young man walked past the Ronald mcdonald statue

And towards me, everyone looked

“HELLO!  YOU LOOK VERY NICE TODAY.  WHAT IS YOUR NAME?”

And so I told him, just to get this over with

“WHAT IS YOUR LAST NAME?”

And so I made-up a fake name that sounded cool.

“HAVE YOU SEEN ROSEANNE?”

I told him, “no.”

And then he walked away

And I purchased my diet beverage

And drove back to work.

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