One of my pet vices is getting a hot Egg McMuffin and McDonald’s coffee every now and then when I find myself in the cold car in the morning. I love McDonald’s coffee. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because they lace it with heroin.This week, I stopped by on my way in to work. It was REALLY cold out, and as I pulled around to the “first window” to pay, I noticed that the window was open only wide enough for an arm. The rest of the glass was fogged up. I didn’t really look hard to see who was there, but when I heard the “$3.87 please” I thrust forth my four dollars, and an arm appeared to take it, returning my change a moment later.”Hmm. The Onceler has arrived,” I thought.I pulled forward to the second window, and noticed the same window space there — open about 5 inches. This time my coffee and a McDonald’s bag appear at the end of a hand, one after another. I caught a girl’s smile and “thank you” through the slot before I pulled away, but it made me think:The Onceler has arrived. McDonald’s has become a machine we trust. We drive up, order the #1 in any city, and politely drive forth to hand our money to the faceless hand in the first window and take our product from the faceless hand in the second window. We trade our cash for the thneed, and we’re happy.
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