he could do something like lower the fries into the oil. And maybe hand out a bag of food, assuming it wasn’t to an uggo. His words, not mine.
Now, I don’t know much about politics. I think I’ve made that crystal clear. But all this sounded like a good idea to me. Or maybe I was just excited to actually be going into a McDonald’s after all these years.
We arrived right before they stopped serving breakfast. They were in the process of switching over to lunch.
They had a few breakfast sandwiches left over and I was given two sausage and egg biscuits. I hadn’t had McDonald’s breakfast in over a decade at that point. They were free and I gobbled them up in less than five minutes.
While the former president was being trained on the fryer, my stomach started rumbling.
Oh, no.
I could feel the pressure build up.
I could swear the workers in the kitchen could hear the noises that were coming from my gut. It was that loud.
I didn’t want to use the bathroom there. Obviously, you don’t trust the bathroom at fast food places. It’s science.
It’ll go away, I told myself.
I rocked back and forth. It worked for a minute but then a mini- explosion sound came from my tummy.
I’m not going to be able to wait this out, I thought to myself.
I started shaking. I looked toward the counter to see what they were doing.
The workers were preparing an order for the former president to hand out at the drive-through.
Another rumble.
Definitely not going to make it.