This Should Not Be Difficult

WE DID SOMETHING LAST NIGHT that we haven’t done in quite a while and we did it in front of the Smart TV and the Alexa gizmo. We didn’t care if the TV was watching us or if Alexa was listening. We are adults and we are married to each other.

We ate dinner from McDonald’s.

It was the end of a long day. All of our chores, errands, and other tasks had been satisfactorily completed. We were tired. Cooking was not an option. Eating was. Food of some sort was really all we wanted.

Details on that unidentified food were not all that important. They rarely are if you think about it. We really don’t want to know how that piece of fried chicken got to that plate in front of us. What was the chicken thinking when it realized that it wasn’t going to get its feathers back and he was being sprinkled with eleven herbs and spices?

Last night all we wanted was fodder – something to keep body and soul together so we could stay awake long enough to watch the ballgame on TV that didn’t start until 9:45.

The decision was made: We would eat. Once that issue was settled the bulk of the conversation revolved around the word “What.” The only sure thing was that it had to be organic matter. None of that inorganic pseudo-food for us.

For the next ten minutes we stood in front of the refrigerator looking at all of the “to-go” menus from local eateries that were stuck to the door with those colorful plastic magnets that come from somewhere. The time had come: It was either Eat or get off the Pot and Pan. Nothing looked appealing. Chinese food? Not tonight. The idea of Fu Yung was looking old. Barbecue? Not worth the effort and the number of napkins we would go through. We gave serious consideration to the local Mexican restaurant. We realized that we were too tired to deal with all of those trips up and down the stairs going to and from the euphemism.

When all else fails you can always get agreement on…McDonald’s. It was only a few blocks away and as digestively innocuous as it comes. Our colons have become immune to anything Mickey D’s has to offer.

I was elected to go fetch our dinner. Two votes were cast. It was a tie and I lose tie votes. That was one of our wedding vows.

My fall-back order at McDonald’s is always the Nuggets. Nuggets with Fries and the Hot Mustard Sauce. I’m easy to please. My wife is more particular.

“I want a ‘Filet-o-Fish’, Plain …no cheese, no secret sauce. Just fish and a bun.”

I don’t remember the last time they got that simple order correct. It is somehow too complicated for them.

Put fish on the bun – STOP!

That’s it.

When I placed the order I stressed this with the friendly person behind the counter. She said to me, “All I can do is enter that in the order here at the register. What they are going to do in the back – I don’t know.”

Filet-o-Fish, Plain!

“Number 131 – Nuggets and Filet-o-Fish, Plain”

That was my order. It was the store manager who handed me the bag. I said I wanted to check on the Fish Sandwich.

“It’s a Filet-o-Fish, Plain,” he said.

I opened the little clam-shell box…I lifted the top of the bun…there was the Filet-o-Fish…and sitting on top of it was a slice of orange cheese.

“Oh?” was all the manager had to say as I handed him the cheese.

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