Written 3 October, 2007
Mickey D's
Yesterday I visited Ben & Jerrys psychedelic-colored sim, where a newbie Italian man thought I was ignoring him because my headset wasn’t plugged in and I replied in chat instead of voice. Oh, well, we probably wouldn’t have had much to talk about anyway.
“So, how are the trains running since you got rid of Mussolini?”
“How’s the Pope?”
“Is Fellini still making movies?”
For some reason (my mind works in ways that are a mystery even to me), I realized that in my year in Second Life (my rez day is the 24th), I’ve not seen a single McDonalds.
That’s right. One year sans Ronald McDonald. No Egg McMuffins, no McRibs, no McNuggets, no Quarter Pounders, no two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun. No supersize. No breakfast burritos.
No wonder I’m in SL so much! No MicDonalds!
I found myself speculating about what a Second Life McDonalds experience might be like.
The following is based on an actual experience at an Atlanta McDonalds:
/me pulls up to the drive-in window in her freebie UPS truck.
“I’d like a small Coke, please.”
“Mumble, mumble, mumble.”
“Would you please repeat that?”
“I said we’re out of small Cokes. We have only medium and large.”
“Well, that would make the medium the small, then, wouldn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“I want the smallest one.”
“Do you want the medium of the large?”
“I want the small one.”
“I already told you we don’t have small, only medium, large, and extra-large.”
“Small is a relative term. It’s not a trademarked McDonalds size. If you’re out of small cups, the medium is the small, isn’t it?”
“No, the medium is the medium. We’re out of small.”
“You have three sizes, right?”
“Well, four, but we’re out of small, so that leaves three.”
“Well, I want the small one.”
“Which one?”
“The small one. Of the three sizes you have, the small one.”
“We’re out of small ones. We have medium, large, and extra-large.”
“I want to hear you say that the medium is the small one.”
“But the medium isn’t small. It’s medium. We’re out of small.”
“I want the smallest size you have.”
“The medium?”
“I refuse to call it medium if it’s the smallest one. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”
“But it
is a medium. We’re out of small.”
“Do you know if there’s a virtual Burger King anywhere on the grid?”
------
As bad as that was, my KFC experience was more bizarre..
“Hi, I’d like a piece of chicken for my little dog.”
“Would you like white meat or dark meat?”
“It’s for my dog. I’m sure she doesn’t care… Well, if you’re going to just stand there until I choose, dark meat. Let’s give her dark meat”
“A thigh or a leg?”
“It’s for my dog. She doesn’t care. Choose one.”
“Okay. Would you like sides with that?”
“It’s for my dog! Dogs don’t eat Cole slaw. All right, all right, no. No sides.”
“Would you like a soft drink?”
“My dog! It’s for my dog! It’s for my frigging dog! Do you get that?”
“Yes, ma’am. Regular or extra crispy?”
“Excuse me for a moment. I’ll go outside and ask her.”
And I did. I went outside to my car and patted my dog and told her I was dealing with an idiot and would have food for her soon and then went back inside and said:
“She told me the regular would be fine.”
I have you now, you son-of-a-bitch, I said to myself. There’s not a single other question you can ask.
And then he said, in all earnestness:
“Would you like a biscuit with that?”
