My wife and I were out late tonight, having just come from a trip to Sam’s Wee, Not-So-Wee, and Friccin’ Huuuge Club and a brief(!) stop at my parents’ house. We hadn’t bothered to stop for dinner in all the craziness, so it was with growling stomachs that we pulled up to a McDonald’s Drive-Thru. The clock in the Blazer read 10:56. We ordered two quarter pounder w/cheese meals and pulled around to get our order. I handed the gent at the window the requisite money. He turned around briefly, spoke to someone “offstage”, then turned around and handed me my money back. “This one’s free, on us. We just want to get home” said he. “Oh, and it’ll be just a minute before we can get you your order. The fries are still cooking”.
Free McD’s and piping hot fries to boot? Score!
Needless to say, the three lb. box of Raisin Bran stared disapprovingly at us from the back seat. But screw ’em! Those freaky claymation soul singers never gave me free fries at 11pm.
Stoners’ Paradise
