I pull up slowly, cautiously, looking at the speaker in the midst of the sprawling menu. Waiting…
“Welcome to McDonald’s, what great mystery can I unravel for you today?”
Shocked, I fail to respond right away. I only look ahead into the swirling void for a couple beats.
Why should I be surprised by what I see or hear anymore? Since getting up this morning, things have been unusual. You ever wake suddenly with a jolt as if you fell into reality from some other realm? I did today, but my awakening was especially jarring. I came to on the floor after falling out of bed. From where my fall began, I am still uncertain.
Then, in the shower, why did the water smell strongly of onions? And more about the water – even though it was hot as I could tolerate, there was no steam. Grabbing the bar of soap, I immediately heard muffled screaming when I started to lather. I figured it was the kids next door torturing each other as they readied for school, despite the screams seeming to come from the soap itself.
Perhaps I should’ve gone back to bed after the shower.
However, responsibilities were front-of-mind and I’ve got several these days. It took me longer to get out the door than normal and I got into my car craving the typical Friday fast-food breakfast fix. So on the way to work, I drove to McDonald’s first in the midst of an especially aggressive morning fog.
And yes, looking off into the distance now at the drive-thru, thinking about what to order and unexpectedly of life’s mysteries at the same time, I feel off balance. I must’ve misheard the woman behind the speaker, right? She wants my breakfast order, not thoughts on the unknowable.
Do I go with the usual or get crazy and break the norm? Looking ahead, thinking, I hope not to take an awkwardly long pause before responding. I notice again that, ever so slightly, near the horizon light is slowly bending and twisting into a dark spot I can barely perceive.
Hurriedly, I shout, “EGG MCMUFFIN WITH ORANGE JUICE AND A COFFEE, PLEASE!”
Unexpectedly, she responds, “Would you like fries with that?”
Okay, what fresh hell is this!?, I’m thinking. Everybody knows you can’t get fries until breakfast ends and it’s only 7:33 in the AM. Reality has surely taken a savage turn this morning.
But I’m a fry guy and I want those fries, damn it! After all, today is Fryday, so from deep within my nearly overwhelming mind haze I order the large fries despite fears I’m crossing a line into a strange place from which I might not return.
“Please pull ahead to the first window”, I hear, slightly rattled but eager to have fries with an Egg McMuffin for the first time in my life.
A few seconds later, at the window ready to pay, I see an older man, who looks vaguely familiar, coming forward.
“I see you opted for the large order of our French fries. Interesting choice, despite the undeniable fact that no amount of fat and salt, however perfectly paired with sliced and fried potato, will ultimately soothe the unbearable pain inherent in this life. Your choice to consume joy, bite by bite, while everything around and within us gradually crumbles to dust is notable.”
That measured way of speaking and the German accent. The piercing eyes and dishearteningly calm look on his time-worn face. This is undoubtedly Werner Herzog.
The day’s early and peculiar daze has all but completely engulfed me, yet turning back from the fries I’m due is not an option. I shall persevere. The drive-thru only moves in one direction – straight ahead, impending doom be damned! I pay absentmindedly and without acknowledgment of the true cost of being here in this unprecedented moment.
I take the food from Mr. Herzog as he says, “Enjoy or do not enjoy your breakfast; it matters little in the end.”
I thank him, pull away, and turn onto the street. The spiraling darkness on the horizon is growing in intensity, both in its light-swallowing capacity and rotational frequency.
The fries, sitting in the bag between my legs, are hot and perfectly salted.