Every once in a while, I have a distinct craving for a Big Mac. Not a burger, a Big Mac. Not a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, a Big Mac. And so this week I headed over to my favorite McDonald's, the one on Randolph in Chicago's Theater District.
The menu is the same as any and every McDonald's, which suited me fine because I wanted a Big Mac. But it's the sign out front I love. Neon! And it has an upstairs, where no one ever goes. At lunchtime, everyone takes their bag to go. So I got a table by the window, finished my Big Mac and my book, and watched the city go by.
Color me happy.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I haven't had a Big Mac in eons!
ReplyDelete