|An Open Letter To Whom It May Concern (12/7/06)
Dear Corporate McDonald's:
Last Tuesday I purchased a Happy Meal for lunch, since your seductive new Happy Meal toys looked like the kind of thing I could while away a good five minutes with. However, upon getting home and actually unpacking said Happy Meal, I found that the bastards at my local McDonald's had secretly replaced my anticipated toy with a lame Donkey Kong frisbee-like thing, and the cute little creature I had been happily anticipating annoying my friends with was nowhere to be found.
I know that, as a 37 year old woman with a predeliction for strange kitsch items, I am not your targeted Happy Meal demographic, but surely even a soulless corporate monolith like yourself can agree that I do deserve at least a little happiness, despite having no desire to drink 2% milk or play with all the clever printed things on the side of the Happy Meal box. As such, and because of the traumatic experience of anticipated-toy-deprivation, I feel you owe me.
This is not the first time my local McDonald's has disappointed me; they have perpetrated such fast food atrocities as charging five cents for extra barbecue sauce (which is very good on your fries - still the best in the business) and refusing to carry special promotional items such as the McRib, pumpkin pies, and milkshakes in any flavour but brown, white, or pink. Having to put up with such things on a daily basis has taken its toll on my spirit, much as your delicious french fries have taken their toll on my thighs.
I've been loyal to you, McDonalds; like a woman who keeps telling herself "he really loves me, he just likes attention from other women to boost his ego", I have stuck with you through the changes to your menu, even to the point of despair. When you changed your pies from the delicious fried crispy goodness to lame baked just-as-unhealthy-but-people-are-too-lazy-to-look-at-the-calorie-count ones, I was deeply hurt, but I figured it was something you needed to do to feel better about yourself, and I understood about the chicken nuggets (everyone else liked them, so I figured it was my fault for considering them inferior). I accepted that you needed to grow and change; I gave you your space and freedom, and didn't make any unreasonable demands.
But this recent franchise behaviour has really started to make me feel like maybe we're growing apart. I don't feel like you respect me anymore - I mean, if you feel it's okay to substitute an inferior toy for a cool one, what's next? Will my Big Mac have hamburger-sized patties instead of full-sized ones?
Oh, wait. You already did that to me. I see it now. I see how it's been all these years. You never really cared for me, did you? All that talk about "have it YOUR way" - that was just to make me think you cared. In reality, it's never been MY way, only yours. Well, I've had enough. You'll bully me no more - I've found someone else, and he's a real King.
In deep bitterness,
(p.s. See you next Tuesday. Keep your fries hot, baby.)