McDonalds Magic

I’m a bit of a snob. I like my coffee houses how I like my men: I stick with just the one.

But tonight, I may have cheated on my local coffeehouse with the McDonalds up the road. But not for lack of trying to stay loyal. The warm and beckoning lights from my favourite coffeehouse ushered me up the street, whispering invitations to coffee and croissants, even though it was nearing 8 pm (I’ll drink coffee any time of day, bite me). I saw from across the road that the window seats were taken, but I held out hope that even the accursed table next to the toilets would be available this Wednesday evening. But alas, absolutely every table was taken up with curly-haired, tastefully tattooed university gals with looks of sympathetic pity that I had not thought of showing up three hours earlier to secure a space with the learned ones.

So with only half my dignity intact, I confidently strode back into the street, pretending I had a plan b worthy of marching off toward. Twenty steps up the street I pulled out my Google Maps and searched for the nearest cafe that would possibly be willing to stay open late on a weeknight. That’s when the golden arches beckoned.

Not gonna lie, the pictures had something to be desired. But there were the magic words I was looking for: “Open til 4 am”. Ok, just this one time. If I show back up to my coffeehouse at 7:30 am, he’ll forgive me. A swipe of the card will fix all the damage, and we’ll have to have a chat about availability if he wants this relationship to work out long-term.

So I dubiously headed up the road towards the bright lights of McDonalds. I should be completely honest, I’ve had some good experiences there recently, it’s just never been with the coffee. I should give added context: for my midweek top-up of Jesus juice, I like to attend my church during their Wednesday 6 pm service. I would like to say that it is because my spirituality is a priority for me, but it all started because I was lonely in a big city, and I was headhunting for new friends. Well, I happened upon a good little squad that follows up these spiritual top ups with a visit to the local Mickey Ds for burgers and debriefing. McDonalds now holds some fond memories of inappropriate banter with a burger in hand, doubled over in laughter. It also holds moments of excruciating embarrassment as we all push boundaries with each other and poke things we shouldn’t poke. But friendships are built this way and I’m happy to say I was successful in my headhunt for friendship (shoutout to Team Burger).

But this was taking it to the next level. This was me bringing my laptop, searching for inspiration, and needing good coffee. I found a corner with a power plug, which is practically liquid gold in any cafe - they do know how to treat a working woman - and I set up and got to work people-watching and judging my surroundings. Not going to lie, hearing that milk wand being abused that way while they attempted to make my coffee did make me wince. But there was no turning back now.

People are usually my top forms of inspiration, and the good news is that they’re not lacking at McDonalds. The two guys sitting between me and the window cast furtive glances my way and seemed relieved when my headphones went on. Their conversation continued, probably about the price of energy drinks going up in a worrisome way or what to choose between investing in the latest gaming console or a new house. The girls next to me were dissecting their latest interaction with a guy who sounded fascinating, but I had to pretend I couldn’t hear because of said headphones and proceeded to look engrossed in my phone for a couple of minutes.

And then the writing started. It flowed out of me like someone had released a valve. Things have been cooking for a while and there it all was, suddenly sitting on the tips of my fingers, begging to be typed out.

Maybe it was the constant flow of trams outside. Perhaps it was the chatter that shifted and changed around me. Or it could have been the confidence that the cleaning lady wasn’t going to indirectly urge me out the door via mop. Maybe it was my fantastic Spotify playlist playing just low enough so that I could still hear the gossip surrounding me. Whatever it was, it was magic. And the words came pouring out of me.

It turns out magic can happen in McDonalds, it just pays to be a little less snobbish and a little more open to the moment.

Turns out I still like my coffee houses like I like my men: easily underestimated, with some hidden magic still, and up for a chat til 4 in the morning.