The Great McNugget Hunt of 2011

February 1, 2011 at 11:19 am | Posted in Around Boston, Married Life | 6 Comments
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Andrew and I have slowed down in our old age. We like to eat dinner at a reasonable hour, go to bed early, and get to the grocery store on Sunday mornings before it turns into a mob scene. But every now and then we break out of our quiet, calm existence to hang out with the young guns (either at heart or actual age). Two weekends ago was one of those times.

We made our way to a friend’s birthday party in the little big city (aka Cambridge) at 8pm (when the revelry was set to begin) and were, of course, the really cool kids who were the first to arrive at her apartment. Really cool. The plan was to hang out at her place for some adult beverages (a funny term, if you ask me – the more adult I become the less interest I have in said drinks.  My 22 year old self would hardly recognize me now) and snacks, and then when they were ready to hit the town, we would be ready to drive back to the ‘burbs and hit the hay.

All was going according to plan for a while. We had a great time with the kiddies (okay, they were only a couple years younger, but sometimes I feel like I’m in my 80s!) and around midnight when they were ready to go dancing, Andrew and I had just enough energy left in us to drive home. But when we made it to the highway, Andrew had an old school craving: he wanted a midnight snack from the golden arches.

Even seeing them dressed up like weirdos doesn't deter me from craving McNuggets!


Luckily there was a 24 hour Mickey D’s a few exits from our house, but we soon learned this stroke of brilliance had struck others as well. The drive-through line literally circled around the parking lot and into the street. In his infinite patience (haha), Andrew convinced me to seek out an alternate McDonald’s. Surely if one is open, others would be open and less crowded. So we drove to North Reading, and to Reading, only to find them all closed. We drove to Woburn and Tewksbury – same situation. We passed open “BK Lounges” (yes, we have nicknames for fast food joints. What of it?), and even a Sonic ready to serve, but at 12:45 when you’ve got a craving for those crispy white meat (so they claim) nuggets, substitutions just seem cruel.

My alertness and patience were beginning to wane, but the hope in Andrew’s eyes spurred me on and we kept hunting for those gilded arches. Around 1:30 when I could stand it no more, I pulled into a BK where we could have it our way (except if you ask for McD’s nuggets – they won’t do it your way in that case) and implored him to give whoppers a chance.

But it just wasn’t the same.


P.S. If you’re related to me and wondering why I would be eating fast food so close to when I have to squeeze into a bridesmaid’s dress and not ruin my brother’s wedding pictures by being the bovine gal in the wedding party, I say stop judging me.  You can’t prove that I ate anything!

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