Cola, Diet, RB, or other.
When we were kids, my sister and I carefully pushed those little plastic buttons every time we scored a meal at McDonald’s. We pushed Cola if we had cola, RB if we had root beer, and Other if we were sucking back some McDonald’s orange drink, which was our usual.
Honestly, we thought there was a big Garbage Survey at the end of the day and every customer had to punch their button to send in feedback. We figured some poor McDonald’s employee stuck his arm shoulder-deep in that bag of lettuce scraps drenched in Big Mac sauce, assorted ice-cream cone bottoms, and greasy French Fry containers to pull out all the cup lids. Then we imagined he arranged them in tipsy, drippy piles and counted up how many of each sold that day, quickly tabulating the results on a clipboard and calling them into head office so they knew how many batches to make for tomorrow.
Anyway, these days every time I enjoy a fine dine at a fast food joint, I still make sure I take lots of napkins, swivel in my chair, and press those little buttons on the drink cup lid.
There’s just something about the way they give, the way they turn white, and the way they’re permanently transformed for all eternity that just makes me itch for it.
It’s just compulsive. It’s just instinct.