The McDonald's that was near Josh's place was everything that he'd expected a crappy fast food branch to be. Everything just had that weird greasy smell to it, and the style of the seating and all was a fossil of the 2000s, reminding Josh of the strangely nostalgic period of Black Eye Peas, Maroon 5 and Britney Spears.
Sometimes he'd really want to be a kid again.
"Can I take you order, please?" The bored-looking teenager manning the counter said, just as Josh reached the counter to order. The black cap, the red apron covering the black uniform all screamed McDonald's.
Josh thanked the gods for his accounting job.
"I'll take a Big Mac, large fries and a medium coke." Josh answered with a half-smile. These guys must be tired of the same 'uhhhh's and hums that come out of customers with the same deadpan face.
A smile could never hurt anyone.
It was the Big Mac that had kept Josh from not indulging in the fast food joint for more than a week. Something about the yellow sauce was enticing to him – with the addition of gambling with the fries, as some day it'd be soggy, while other days it'd come out as perfect as it could be. If Josh was lucky on a Saturday noon, he'd even get a perfectly salted batch.
"Three ninety-nine."
Josh handed out four one dollar bills. That was another thing about McDonald's – it was really cheap. Cheaper than any diner or Italian bistro that was around the neighborhood that he'd been living in for so long.
The food didn't take too long, either. Just a good five minutes of waiting, and Josh was rewarded with the sight of the two-patty burger's box, that signature red fries' container with the golden arches and the white paper cup holding arguably one of the best drinks in the world.
Josh loved soda and he couldn't not admit it. Fizzy drinks were always a favorite, but sparkling water was too boring, and he hated drinking alcohol. Sweet, carbonated syrup became his thing, eventually, even though he was far too aware of his steadily climbing weight because of it.
He patted his small spare tire belly, and smirked. It was an unpopular opinion but eating and getting fat was something to be proud of, in Josh's opinion. He pinched the thin layer of pudge surrounding his ribs, before opening up the Big Mac box to take in another messily made burger that would leak more lettuce than a lettuce plant itself.
And the fries, most of them weren't that bad. Some were burnt, but Josh still scarfed them down nonetheless. It wasn't like there was going to be anyone judging him to his face.
The drink? Nothing too different from what he usually had. Coca Cola has always been the constant, being produced from a factory, after all.
--
Josh hated long lines. So did his belly, as it groaned in hunger for the thirtieth time.
It was a very strange thing for his stomach to literally growl. Just a couple months ago and he would've gotten full from a slice of pizza, or a single Big Mac meal. He never had his stomach growl because he'd never had a strong affinity for food.
It didn't take long, though, for his appetite to change that. It began with a promotion. A Quarter Pounder, discounted by 50%? Josh just had to order it, adding onto his already caloric Big Mac meal.
And he promised himself he'd go for a run at the park later that day. He never did. So he'd promised himself that he'd have less of fast food.
Yet he was back in McDonald's for the second time of the week, craving for a Big Mac, a Quarter Pounder, two fries and another five ounces of Coca Cola.
