My Love Affair With Fast Food

Ahhhh, the McRib. Welcome back! And at such a convenient time for me! There's nothing like a 24 gram of fat "pork" patty slathered in BBQ sauce, covered in onions and pickles, and planted between two soggy buns to derail my train before it even leaves the station. How can this monstrosity bring me to my knees when I know how absolutely awful it is? Well, because I am the old black man in the video. When I pass a McDonald's or Taco Bell, I have a physical and psychological reaction. When I take the first bite out of a McDouble or a Grilled Stuffed Burrito, my soul gently sways back and forth while a sense of satisfaction sweeps over me. In my mind's eye, fast food completes me.

This isn't anything new. As far back as I can remember, I was excited every time we got to eat out. In my family, that was a lot. See, I had fantastic parents who lived very busy lifestyles which often centered around me and my sister's activities. We were never all in one place at one time during the day because my dad taught in Montrose, my sister went to school in either Humboldt or Hartford, wherever I happened to not be that year, and my mom worked in Sioux Falls. My dad coached baseball, softball, boys and girls basketball, volleyball, golf, and anything else that involved a circle ball. My sister and I were involved in sports, plays, band, chorus, and pretty much everything in between. My mom somehow managed to make it all work to where she never missed any of our things, which was tough since they were almost always at conflicting times. So, how do you feed a family of four that is constantly on the go? Hamburger Helper and fast food, the latter of which was strongly preferred by my sister and I. I distinctly remember going to Taco Bell as a kid on our way to softball games. Taco Bell was new and exciting for me since we'd never had one in any of the towns we lived in before. Our family wasn't rolling in dough, so I'm sure the convenience, cost, and our overall love of Mexican food made it the ideal place for my parents. I remember we used to be able to order two things off the menu, so my sister and I would strategize carefully about how we could get the most bang for our buck. Eventually, two items became three items as we got older, and somehow along the way after I didn't have my mom guiding my decisions, it became four or five.

It wasn't just Taco Bell. Some of my best childhood memories took place in fast food restaurants. I had birthday parties in McDonald's in Pierre and Aberdeen, I collected all the Disney Christmas dolls/Smurf glasses/California Raisins from Hardees, and I felt a little closer to my grandma as we shared an Apple Grande on hot days in Taco Johns. I don't watch a ton of children's TV anymore (okay, okay, I do, but not on Saturday mornings), so I'm not sure how the marketing is to kids these days, but back then your relative coolness completely depended on whether or not you had the Kids Meal watch from Burger King. Fast food = satisfaction with life.

Then came college and my real downward spiral into trans fat dependency. There's something about the amount that you eat as an adolescent male that helps you feel superior to your friends. You can eat a 18" of sub? Well, watch my down two footlongs. You got the Monster Burger combo with a large fry? Yeah, me too, and I'm looking forward to washing it all down with this chocolate shake. We ate like maniacs! My friends were all very athletic people, and they could go calorie for calorie with me. I have one name, who shall remain nameless so as to protect his reputation as a sane person, who once at the following: 1 footlong sub, 6 Chicken McNuggets, a large Monster Burger combo, a big cookie from Hardee's, and large Blizzard. In one sitting. In under an hour. And so did I. Suddenly, my stomach's threshold was able to expand beyond my wildest dreams. Eating a large pizza by myself was no longer an oddity, but a regular occurrence. We ate and ate and ate. They all stayed the same weight. I gained about 60 pounds.

Now the fast food companies had me hooked on about four levels. I knew it was cheap, I knew it was easier than cooking for myself, I was always full, and I was emotionally attached. The last two eventually turned into my biggest downfall. I don't feel like I eat a lot. Or at least not that much more than anyone else I eat with on a daily basis. I know that it takes 3,000+ calories to maintain my weight, but I honestly don't feel like I put that into my body on a normal day. However, many days for me aren't normal. I'm a social person, and I've lived on my own for the past six years or so. When I feel down or lonely, I binge. When I leave my parents' house or Sioux Falls/Sioux City after a weekend with friends, I almost always stop somewhere and spend $15. I'm ashamed to admit this, but my usual fare consists of two Buck Doubles and two Chicken Sandwiches from Burger King or the two Chalupa meal with a taco, plus a Grilled Stuffed Burrito and a Chili Cheese Burrito from Taco Bell. I'm so ashamed when I do it that I sometimes pretend I'm on the phone with someone who is asking me to place an order for them as well when I pull up to the window. Fast food makes me full, and not just in the basic food way. Ronald McDonald, Taco John, the King, the Noid, and that talking chihuahua always have my back, no matter what else is going on in my life.

Well, no more. Hi, my name is Jeff and I am a fast food addict (pause for your hello back). Starting today, I no longer need fast food to fill in the spaces. I have a support system that always holds me up, and all the Super Sizing in the world isn't going to make me feel better than my friends and family. This $3 apple (okay, I'm still not over the $3 apple) makes me feel just as good about myself, and in the long run, it is going to make my life better. So, Ronald, John, King, Noid, dog...we're through. I won't let the McRib have this dance for the rest of my life.
Dancing to a new beat,
Jeff