As a kid my mother used to make a joke when the McDonald’s drive-thru took too long. This was before they took credit cards.
She’d say, “what, are they killing the chickens or something?”
My brother and I always laughed, or rolled our eyes or both.
We got older, yet still we laughed, rolled our eyes, or both. We started dating. My brother had long-term, strong, targeted relationships. I dated like shotgun pellets in a tree full of birds.
Once, I was dating a girl named Fern; her real name was Kate, but people called her Fern. She didn’t like McDonalds.
We were on our way to the train–it was late. My mother asked if we’d like to stop for McDonalds. I said, “yes.” Fern said nothing, but ordered a milkshake. The line was slow, long.
“What, are they killing the chickens or something?” my mother said.
I didn’t laugh…
View original post 152 more words