My favorite eatery since childhood has been McDonald’s. Not what most people would consider a restaurant, but it’s the only place I can think of where I’ve never been disappointed in the meal I ordered, or the price I paid for it. That’s quite the compliment. Not that I lack in dining experience mind you. As a member of the Corporate Overlords for 20 years, I participated in more mandatory dining out for lunch and dinner occasions than I can possibly count.
The experience is generally a prolonged social engagement that persists well beyond what one would consider pleasant. It’s either too dark, or too bright. Too hot, or too cold. It’s generally noisy and trips to the bathroom typically end in disgust at the state of public facilities. The food is overpriced, the service is slow and in the case of the aforementioned mandatory corporate mixers, finding a way to extricate oneself from the proceedings without upsetting anyone is an anxiety prone decision making process.
I recall being at an Atlanta restaurant with about 20 coworkers after a long day of sharing a conference room doing quality assurance reviews. It was so loud, we had to shout to anyone other than the person immediately next to us. Invariably, the conversations dry up quickly, forcing us into one of Dante’s Circles of Hell: dinner small talk. I was casually looking down at the iPhone in my lap tweeting something, when I heard my name being called from across the table. Literally, someone about 20′ away at the opposite end of a round table was shouting my name. I pretended not to hear it until finally I had no choice since the person persisted. I looked up and upon eye contact, they yelled, “do you like your iPhone?” I kid you not.
Shortly thereafter, the food began arriving which you would think would finally bring an end to the tortured conversations but no, now the topics could shift to commentary about what was present on the various plates. “That’s a big potato,” one person keenly observed and felt compelled to share. Seriously. This is followed by the awkwardness of a crowd of hungry people staring at the plate in front of them, but having to wait because half the table hasn’t gotten their food yet. Such joy.
At another occasion I recall getting my medium steak with steamed broccoli very early in the serving process, which set the stage for the following interaction: “Hey Joe,” called out someone from the other end of the rectangular table top. “That looks good!” I almost left it at a slight nod of recognition,but I couldn’t resist: “Thanks, I ordered it myself.”
The other aspect of dining out with other people that drains any possible enjoyment from the event is having to either explain or defend what you’ve selected as your meal. I’ve had people question if I’m on a special diet, or why I would order a burger while dining in New Orleans: “It’s on the menu.” I’ve had people ask for a bite of my food, or if I’d like some of theirs. I once watched a friend stick his fork into my wife’s steak and say, “I’ve got to try this,” which I thought was odd, but assumed they must have discussed it at some point and I just missed the conversation. I found out later that no, he hadn’t asked her, he just took it.
Having convincingly established that our obsession with dining out is completely illogical, we can now consider that in June of the year 2020, dining out brings a new horror to the experience: the very real prospect of illness and death. In the midst of the global pandemic, human beings apparently cannot resist the need to go and sit in one of the locales I’ve so eloquently described, risking their lung tissue to indulge in shouted small talk, disgusting bathrooms, slow service and overpriced food. The mind is literally boggled.
I thoroughly enjoy the process of eating, and prepare 4 distinct meals for myself each and every day. I eat quietly and in peace, for a sliver of the cost of what I’d pay for a similar meal at any restaurant. When I’m done, I go on about whatever it was I felt like doing without haste, without driving anywhere, without extended goodbyes and well wishes, and without exchanging pathogens. On the rare occasion when I find myself out and about, needing a meal that can’t wait until I get home, I’ll take the McDonald’s Drive Thru every time, thank you very much.
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