I’ve been known to hold a pretty solid grudge. Mostly against evil stuff like L.A. traffic, motorcycle engines at late hours, the San Francisco Giants and whoever made the sixth Harry Potter movie.
If I believe in something, I’ll fight for it. And I can be stubborn as hell.
So it’s with great pain that I have to write this piece, dropping the grudgiest of all grudges and admitting I was wrong about something that I’ve rallied against for years.
Okay, fine. I caved a few times and gave in to its allure when in an occasional state of desperation and/or drunkenness. They were moments of weakness which I always regretted. But for the most part, I would curse it and wave away any mention in the name of basic human health.
And in my defense, I wasn’t the only one. Thousands of people feel the same way as I felt, avoiding it at all costs and dragging its name, reputation and all its success through the mud.
It was the symbol for all things greedy and awful and disgusting in America and we all took great pleasure in any dent that could be made in its seemingly impenetrable armor. Documentaries, studies, news features and more slung rocks, slowly chipping away at the exterior.
We were going to win the war, battle by battle. It was just a matter of time.
But now, I’m on the other side. I’ve defected, and there’s no bringing me back.
You know those times you just have to admit you were wrong? You know those times when you just have to give credit where credit is due? You know when you find yourself in a place you once hated, but have learned to love?
You know? Well, for me, that place is McDonald’s.
May I forever praise your shitty, delicious, cheap food. May I revel in your long hours and strong WiFi signals. May I put you on the highest pedestal for always being there for me, a golden arched beacon in the darkness of a foreign city, ready to fill my stomach and light up my map for the next journey.
McDonald’s, for a backpacker abroad, is a damn god send. I bow to its greatness.
Don’t you dare sully the name.