Breakfast At McDonald's

“You know what would be a great idea for a book?” I asked, blowing at my coffee through the slot on the plastic lid.

“Hmm?” she murmured. I could tell she was only slightly interested.

“I go around interviewing the old men who eat breakfast at McDonald's every morning. I could go all around the country.” She set down her McMuffin and actually gave it some thought. No, she was just switching hands, reaching for her milk.

“Hmmm. What would you call it?”

“I dunno. Breakfast at McDonald's. It doesn't matter. It could be like a Tuedays With Morrie type book.”

“That's not a good title. I don't think I'd read that.”

“But with more than one Morrie.”

“You'd have to come up with a better title than that.”

“The 6am crowd. Morning stories.”

“Naa....” She was looking off, watching the three little girls sitting behind me.

“Look, the title doesn't matter. I know those are crap titles, I just came up with them on the spot. Someone else can come up with the title; they have people whose entire job it is to come up with titles.”

“Really?”

“I don't know. I just made that up. Isn't that a good idea for a book though?”

“I guess so. The thing is you'd have to wake up real early.”

“Yeah. I'll probably never actually do it.” The little girls had finished picking at their breakfast happy meals and started fidgeting. The two mothers were locked in conversation, and their daughters found the door to the PlayPlace.

“That little girl does not like the ball pit at all. Look at her face,” she laughed. I looked. The girl looked petrified. I was still thinking about my book.

“Everybody's got a story to tell. Take that guy.” I nodded at a elderly man across the room who had just sat down with his order. He was wearing a black baseball cap with “USS Something” in gold stitching. His buddy had a red, worn-in Marine Corps jacket on. “He was in a war when he was my age. He came back home, had kids, grandkids. Now he goes to McDonald's every morning for breakfast and chats with his friends. That's what I want to do with my life when I retire.”

“No, that's what you want to do with your life to right now.”

“Well.... Ok. You're right.” She knew me pretty well. But to be honest, it wasn't too hard to figure that out about me. I was lost, trying to figure out what to do with my life. College had ended a year ago, and all I had done since was travel around, dodging questions about what I was going to do next, telling the same story over and over, and trying to decide what I actually wanted in life.

“Heh. Those two were shacking.” A couple about our age was coming through the door.

“Where?” She looked around.

“Right there. The girl in pajama pants and the guy with the rumpled hair.” Everything about how they were dressed broadcast that they had just rolled out of bed. “I wonder if people look at us and think the same thing.”

“Your hair isn't sticking up.”

“That's because I'm wearing a hat.”

“Yeah, I wondered about that; you never wear a hat.” I had one last swig of coffee left.

“You know how the new ad campaign says how they'll add the cream and sugar for you?” She nodded. “I've been to like three different McDonald's since that started, and they've never asked if I wanted any. Not that I really care.” I always drink black coffee. I crumpled up the paper from my sausage biscuit and threw it on the tray.

“You ready to go?” I nodded in response.

As we were walking out to her car I put my arm around her shoulder and she nestled against my body. She cocked her head to the side, as if something important had just occurred to her. “You know, I think that was the first time I've been inside that McDonald's in years.” We were staying at her mom's place, down the street.

“Well good thing I woke you up early so we could have breakfast.” She elbowed me in the ribs lightly. Her jaw was slightly open, feigning indignation in her eyes. I laughed.

She had woken me up that morning. Well, not at first. She saw I was not about to wake up, slipped under the covers with me, and fell back asleep herself. By the time we finally woke up it was debatable if we'd still make it McDonald's before they switched from breakfast to lunch.

“You did not want to cuddle earlier when I got in bed.” She rolled my arm off her shoulders. “This is what you did.” She began to imitate me sleeping on one side, turned over, her eyes half closed and yet somehow able to roll, sighed, then turned back to the original position.

“Really?” I laughed. “I'm sorry about that.”

“It's fine, I thought it was funny.”

I looked at her smiling; the way the corner of her eyes crinkled at me made me smile back.

“I don't know why you put up with me sometimes.” I blew her a kiss over the roof of the car. “I love you.” And I opened my door and slid into the seat.