The McDonald’s Song

Most times, when I drive by a McDonald’s, I think of hookers.

Let me explain. My father was big on car games. One of his favorites was to predict when the traffic lights would change from red to green. It was a magic trick. He’d say “1… 2… 3… lights change!” and then they would. Every time, without fail. Whenever I or my brothers would try it, nine times out of ten we’d get it wrong. It helped that Dad was playing against 8-year-olds. We didn’t understand until years later that he was just watching the traffic lights of the cross traffic to make his “predictions.”

Another game was spotting McDonald’s restaurants. Now, I’ve seen the documentary Super Size Me and I don’t really like to eat there, but there was a time when seeing a McDonald’s was exciting. The trick was to be the first to see it, however far away it was. If you did and you sang the song, you won.

McDonald’s… McDonald’s…

Duh da da duh duh duh

Duh da da duh duh duh

This, of course, was a game we could play multiple times during even the shortest of car rides. So America’s struggle with obesity does have its perks.

Dad’s absolute most favorite game was one only he played because it wasn’t really a game. It was torture. Dad liked to pick out random, ugly women walking the street and tell my brothers that they were my girlfriend.

When you’re pre-adolescent, the worst thing in the world is girls. You know you’re gonna have to date and marry one eventually, but the thought of it makes you want to vomit and stick bugs up your nose. You hope, at the very least, that she’ll be pretty. That will at least make it somewhat tolerable.

“Look guys, there she is!” Dad would say with fantastic delight. “It’s Brock’s girlfriend! Look, it’s BROCK’S GIRLFRIEND!” And then he’d making loud kissing noises. And then he’d laugh. And so would my brothers.

I’d protest, but the more I did the worse the taunting got. Dad never chose women in other cars or attractive ones on billboards, so invariably I’d end up “attached” to bag ladies and, yes, hookers. This is how I learned who was pretty and who was not. And I became deathly afraid of liking a girl who wasn’t pretty. I didn’t want to be made fun of.

Memory confuses things and puts things together that don’t necessarily go together. When I’m driving through town and I see a prostitute walking the street, I think about about those car games. I think about traffic lights and McDonald’s. Conversely, when I see a McDonald’s, I think of hookers.

Huh. Maybe that’s why I don’t like to eat there.

Advertisements

4 comments

    1. Yeah, pretty much! I think my dad meant well. He was just having fun. But it did kind of scar me for a bit there. I’m grateful for it though. My goal is to not embarrass my kids when they show an interest in boys and to try to be involved in that as much as they’ll let me–I want them to be able to talk to me. We’ll see how that goes.

      Like

  1. Okay I had no idea you had a blog. Tyler told me about it tonight and said it was entertaining but I seriously laughed out loud (not lol I mean actually laughed) reading this whole thing. And so did McKay.

    Like

    1. Well, hey, thanks for checking it out, McKenna! Glad you enjoyed yourself. I wonder if McKay or Tyler even remember any of this. I never quite know how complete their memories of Dad are.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s