This may be the result of living bang opposite a McDonald's outlet. I know for sure, for instance, that I shall never be able to eat a burger or fries again. Every time I step out of the building - or even into the balcony or on the terrace, I can FEEL burgers and fries all around me. The aroma wafts around. Everywhere. All the time. And my olfactory nerves (and my taste buds with them) are beginning to protest. It used to be good fun walking by McDonald's when we came to Kamla Nagar. Going in for a quick bite was even better fun. And when I want some time to myself, I like looking at the outlet and the surrounding area from my balcony. I've even got to know a few things - the delivery van that brings the raw material in every morning arrives exactly at nine, rain or shine. The takeaway window is unmanned between five and seven. Other trifling things that you'd notice if you were, deliberately, not thinking of anything else. But I now know what my friends, who volunteered to look after the food at the BDC or the Christmas party back in College, felt. After hours of slicing and serving cake, and orange juice and sandwiches, they'd actually refuse to have any. I remember one friend telling me they'd spent the afternoon "practically WADING in cake". "Do you REALLY think I want to even look at it any more??" She claimed the aroma of cake and juice made her sick. I laughed. Having spent the afternoon looking after children with half a dozen other people, I didn't know - how could I? - that an atmosphere, as it were, of food can actually put you off it!
Now, I know.
And, as I said, I'm glad the world is not one big McDonald's. I'm glad that people, places, circumstances... everything that makes up our world, are (or should this be "is"?) so different everywhere. Maybe it is good to have this lack of uniformity and standardization, these little imperfections. Wherever in the world you find a McDonald's, you know that the french fries are exactly the length they would be in an outlet in the other hemisphere; the burgers are grilled to exactly the same degree in every restaurant; the chocolate on your McSwirl will taste the same whether you are in Rome, Islamabad, Pune or Brunei (do they have one there? I'm sure they do. Or do they?). The only variations made will be those that are necessary - those necessitated by religious beliefs or local tastes. Even the raw material is exactly the same - largely, at least. A particular variety. There's security in that knowledge (and, of course, impeccable strategy), and that is good. But I'm still glad the powers that be didn't make the world one big McDonald's. And no, this hasn't anything to do with the fact that I won't be able to eat at one for a long, long time to come. Honest!
Now, I know.
And, as I said, I'm glad the world is not one big McDonald's. I'm glad that people, places, circumstances... everything that makes up our world, are (or should this be "is"?) so different everywhere. Maybe it is good to have this lack of uniformity and standardization, these little imperfections. Wherever in the world you find a McDonald's, you know that the french fries are exactly the length they would be in an outlet in the other hemisphere; the burgers are grilled to exactly the same degree in every restaurant; the chocolate on your McSwirl will taste the same whether you are in Rome, Islamabad, Pune or Brunei (do they have one there? I'm sure they do. Or do they?). The only variations made will be those that are necessary - those necessitated by religious beliefs or local tastes. Even the raw material is exactly the same - largely, at least. A particular variety. There's security in that knowledge (and, of course, impeccable strategy), and that is good. But I'm still glad the powers that be didn't make the world one big McDonald's. And no, this hasn't anything to do with the fact that I won't be able to eat at one for a long, long time to come. Honest!
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