My Old Friend

Dear Old Friend,

It’s been a while. Not the best way to begin, but I suppose it’s the truth. Not really sure what struck me to write you, but here I am up late again just wondering how you are yet knowing how I’ve been. Not so great actually. Life is tough, really great and all, but tough. I’ve been to birthday parties and weddings and swimming pools, eaten at Whole Foods a few times in the past month, but they don’t seem to fill me the way that you did. Come to think of it, nobody really warned me about adulthood – work and bills and death and taxes and needing things, things and more things to be happy – perhaps nobody really can.

Don’t get me wrong though, I do have a lot of fun and plenty to be thankful for. I have a family and friends, job, roof over my head, skateboard, dog, books and clothes and shoes, and a big comfy bed depending on who you ask. Truly life is pretty good. But is that too much? Maybe the world taught me something I didn’t sign up for? That’s how it feels anyways.

We used to hang out in your dining room beside the kitchen playing Mario Party on N64. I didn’t have one at home so this was super special. With fake yellow flowers on the tables and sketches of our elementary school teachers on the wall with their autographs, which I always showed off to my parents. And outside the giant slide and the ball pit just beside it, with the nylon strips pieced together in crosses to form a pirate ship style bridge (maybe this only makes sense to me). I walked out of there sticky with other kids’ urine, but sometimes that happens in life and that’s okay. As long as the sun shined on the golden arches outside, nothing could touch me.

There was a time when you welcomed us through your double doors with arms wide open, and still do, but then the public declined your invitation. America literally, figuratively and relatively turned its head the other way. We were lovin’ it! But then we became ashamed of it. Sometimes in life we can forget who we are when we haven’t been reminded of our identity for a while – I’m talking to you, McDonalds.  

McDonalds, you made me so happy. The smell of French fries and the glowing smiles, the free toys, the happy meals for crying out loud. I can even picture waiting in the drive-thru in the back of Grandma’s minivan, with the blue corduroy cushions that made it extra comfy. From the fish-filets and nuggets to the burgers and ice cream, you treated me well, and served it with a smile. And to be honest, I left you in the dust. Super Size Me (2004) came out - the world became fearful - Houston became the fattest city in America – frightening stuff! But maybe we just needed less of you, just like we need less money, less clothes, less problems.

McDonalds, please accept my apology for years of neglect. You didn’t deserve it. I’m better than that, we’re all better than that. You’re my warm and happy place in the years of my youth and I don’t want to know the world without the simplest of pleasures. Please take me back.

Yours Truly,

Chrith Plankton