Have you ever driven your car on a highway and feeling totally scared that the next car to pass you will try to take you down? Yes? Us too!!

We left the Laurentians at 4am on Monday morning knowing that the traffic on the 401 on a Monday of a long weekend would be terrible and I didn’t want a repeat of the previous Friday. I started at the wheel through the twisty mountain road and made our way to Ottawa in less than 2 hours, we stopped for gas and decided to drive a bit further for breakfast, it wasn’t 6am yet. As we left Ottawa to make our way to the 401, DR took a nap so he could take over the driving a bit further on. 45 minutes later, we switched and I fell asleep in the passenger seat within the first two breaths…

I woke up as we were passing Kingston, it was 7:45, I was suddenly very hungry and I had to pee like a sonafabitch. We decided to stop at the next rest area, it was a McDonald’s, not a Tim Horton’s (I secretely thanked the gay god from the Church of Broadway). As I ran to the washroom, DR went to order, I screamed that I wanted something with a sausage and cheese and a large coffee… When I came back, I joined DR in the line as he was ready to order, it wasn’t really busy but the service seemed slow, there was this family of 2 parents and 2 teenagers taking forever to order, next to them, an East-Indian family wanting a deconstructed egg McMuffin (why didn’t they just order the English Muffin on it’s own instead is beyond me…). The thing is I didn’t really pay attention when DR’s turn finally came, but I did hear him say: “Large coffee with one milk”, so it was all good to me.

Once our coffee and tea were brought to us, we were asked to wait to the side as I’m sure another customer was ready to bark his order. The employees that morning really looked like they loved her job. All of a sudden, this other employee just back from the latest emo convention comes to me with a paper back and start reciting some chant: “bla bla bla bla bla, sausage mcmuffin, bla bla bla bla bla bla”. “Sure” I said taking the bag and then turning to DR to say that I hadn’t heard a word she had said. Once in the car, priority was to replug the iPod, music is the best companion next to your husband, people, take note. As we were zooming down the ramp to rejoin the 401 direction “la maison”, I finally opened the bag, it was a McDonald’s Treasure Chest of Food, I think there was one of everything, I mean: 1 burrito, 1 BLT bagel, 1 egg McMuffin, 2 sausage McMuffins, hashbrowns galore.. the works. I only felt guilty for a second when I realized that we were given someone else breaky, a breaky twice a expensive as ours, a breaky precisely chosen by a very particular family made out of 2 parents and 2 teenagers that studied the menu carefully to choose only the best it offered. I decided to eat the Mom’s choice first: BLT Bagel and DR took the daddy meal: Burrito. Then we ate the teenagers’ choice… sausage McMuffins, which is what I really wanted. All the while we were eating, we were nervously laughing at all the cars passing us, thinking it was that vengeful family looking for the assholes who stole their breakfast.

Lesson learned people, don’t leave a McDonald’s on the highway without looking into the bag, especially the morning after an emo party. I once prayed to that same gay god of the Church of Broadway that we didn’t end up with the deconstructed choice of the East-Indian family…

« »