#2 w/ Orange Drink

Now that I'm post-college and post-uncannily quick metabolism, McDonalds is a dining experience reserved for only two situations: 1) while i'm waiting for my plane at the airport; and 2) after a night of heavy drinking. On occasion, I'll sneak in an egg mcmuffin for breakfast here and there, but that too really only happens nowadays when I'm in the need for a quick fix on a road trip. In high school, I went through a twist cone phase, but that ended when most franchises discontinued their chocolate and vanilla treats in favor of the more cost-efficient vanilla. In my opinion, at this point in my life there are really only 3 offerings on the menu not counting breakfast: 2 cheeseburgers, fries, and H1-C Orange Drink. To those of us obedient followers of the value menu, this is the classic #2.

When I was a child, McDonalds was a special treat. Though my parents tried to expand their childrens' palettes to appreciate fine dining, my sister and I ALWAYS opted to eat at Mickey D's. My mom worked next door to one for the better part of my childhood, and more often than not Becky and I were able to convince her to take us there if we had been well-behaved while having to tagalong while she had to work. (We learned to play the guilt-card from an early age.) We alternated between splitting the #2 and having our own Happy Meals. We had quite the array of toys from our Meals, and kept a drawer under our bed that consisted solely of McDonald's toys. No matter what our meal selection, the beverage was always HI-C Orange Drink. Up until I was old enough to drive to McDonald's myself, I never really considered that there were other beverage options than that sweet elixir.

It's a little known fact that Mickey D's sells the Orange Drink powder for special events. They'll let you rent out buckets with pour spouts and purchase mass quantities of the Drink. (I capitalize Drink because I think it should be emphasized that it is neither a soda nor juice). My pool when I was a kid had an annual triathalon to supplement the social events for the children of the pool. My swim coach used to buy the Drink to give us during the running portion of the race. One year, he used hose water to fill the tubs. The Drink tasted like orange-flavored dirt. We all spit it out as we were running and the sidewalk was a minefield of sugary orange oil slicks. I think some poor kid slipped and fell into it at one point, but I don't remember the event clearly enough to ridicule anyone about it 18 years later. After the dirt incident, it took me a few months before I could acclimate my body to drink the stuff without thinking about mud. But alas I finally got back on the horse and was able to enjoy the Drink in all its glory after a short sabbatical. Forgive and forget.

I'm sure McDonalds is linked to defining moments in every kid's life, but I think few can relate a dining experience there to the demise of their parents' marriage. When I was eight, my mom took my sister and me there on a wintery day in march for what we thought was a routine trip to Playland. After eating our Happy Meals, Becky and I spent a bit of time doing jumps into the ball pit, then were asked by mom to come sit down. She proceeded to tell us that she had decided to get her own apartment - to move away from Daddy's house for a while. But we would have a room there to come visit too. I really didn't get it. And quite honestly, Mom did an absolutely terrible job explaining what their divorce would entail in kid-speak, though I can't imagine trying to tell your children anything of the sort. Mom eventually figured out how to lay-out the whole situation into 8 year-olds' language and i finally understood. I knew my parents' marriage was pretty volitaile (my sister and I had started having to stay at my aunt's place when they got into shouting matches and mom had gone on a solo 'vacation' just prior to our endeavor at Mickey D's), but was still understandably crushed. I waited until we got into the car before freaking out, but then threw a full-on tantrum. Straight from McDonald's, mom took us apartment hunting, but I refused to get out of the car. In the 15 years since, I still have a tendency to contain my emotions for a short period, but the price is usually costly and involves a major outburst of emotion at an inappropriate time.

Somewhat in the same vein of the Playland-divorce incident, mom introduced us to our future-stepfather at McDonalds as well. I did love my (now former) stepfather, but I thought the McDonalds meet and greet was somewhat forced, as only a month earlier we had our "mommy's new home" conversation at a Playland on the other side of town. I suppose mom thought a place that brought her children so much joy was perfect for introducing major life-changes, but I think I would have much preferred a less-popular franchise like Hardees or Arby's to conjure up unhappy memories. Those are two fast food joints I rarely come in contact with and have no qualms connecting a Frisco Burger to joint custody agreements.

Over the years, I've come to understand that my parents function much better apart, but after the bombs that were dropped on me at McDonalds, it wasn't until High School that eating there was a stress-free trip. I think subconsciously I blamed the golden arches for my two-turkey thanksigivings, but learned to let it go. As a senior, I wrote a memorable essay called "Happy Meals Make Me Sick" that sarcastically recounted the whole ordeal. I've since moved on and can eat there painlessly (relatively speaking, given the strain it gives my intestinal track), but Ronald will be eternally intwined in my childhood.

Now, every so often I get cravings for a #2. Today, it's the only thing I really wanted for lunch, though I ended up at a nice Italian restaurant and had to opt for a baked chicken breast over a cheeseburger with no pickles a poorly toasted bun. (This can be blamed on a late night out last evening). It's unfortunate that in the new "healthy" salad-infused menu offerings, the classic #2 has been replaced. Now #2 is a quarter-pounder, the chicken mcnugget option has been moved further down in the numerical system, and I think we're probably only a few menu changes away from the value menu being dubbed the "daily calories meal", where it's touted that you only have to eat one meal a day if you go with one of the 20 selections. But I will stay true to my McDonalds roots and continue to ask for the two cheeseburger meal, whether it's on the glowing menu or not. They can steal my parents' union, but they cannot take away my #2.