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The Implications of Some Rather Greasy French Fries (standard:non fiction, 397 words)
Author: Dr. TortoiseAdded: Feb 24 2001Views/Reads: 3434/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A log of my counciousness upon and shortly after looking down into the box of McDonalds french fries that came with my meal. Kinda funny. Mostly cute. Send me lots of criticism!
 



For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, I have decided to look
down into the box of french fries. These fries are from McDonalds, 
purchased about half an hour earlier. The heavily accented member of 
the servile class working at the cash register had over-charged me, but 
our mutual lack of ability to understand each otherís speech dictated 
that McDonalds would keep my extra fifty cents. Perhaps it was some 
grand scheme on her part, feigning a heavy accent to hustle fifty cents 
from every submissive-looking gringo boy who braved the cash register. 

My burger has long since been consumed, after being brutally defiled of
its various toppings and condiments. Gone too is the "milk" shake, if 
it could be called that, a paper cup of froth that was the centerpiece 
of the meal for me. The burger was a mere accompaniment to this 
glorious white goop. The french fries now stand alone. They have been 
in existence for a good half-hour now, and are well past their prime. 
The grease in which they were soaked has turned cold, so attempting to 
consume these fries at this late state would inevitably leave a strange 
film on the lips that no amount of wiping can remove. They look 
genuinely unfit for human consumption, like soaked strips of cardboard. 
This makes it easier to accept the grim reality that they will not be 
eaten, and will instead find retirement in a garbage can somewhere. 
They will receive no more affection from me than they did from the 
toiling members of the aforementioned servile class. They will be 
destroyed with no more love than they were created. 

McDonalds epitomizes the evil multinational, but I continue to loyally
patronize it, throwing to the wind my principles regarding the 
betterment of man. Iím very willing to imagine I am a liberal, but once 
my comfort is at stake my ideological stance changes quite rapidly. At 
least I can admit Iím a hypocrite. And it seems, as long as Iím 
abandoning my core principles, why not abandon them all? The conclusion 
of class and the prospect of freedom abruptly quell these anarchistic 
notions. I pick up the french fries and throw them in the trash. If 
there was a communist revolution in this country, I, who purportedly 
approve of such political extremism, would certainly be one of the 
first to die. 


   


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