I’m walking to Safeway to get some boxes of Watermelon Wheat to party with. At the crosswalk by the McDonald’s I’m joined by a man and a young boy. The man says to the boy, “They make McDonald’s so those people don’t go in the places we go. Those people need places to eat too.” My eyes go wide, but the boy is totally onboard: “Yep!” he exclaims, with a spring in his step.
And then…. They walk into Boston Market. This definitely gives me pause, but I’m not sure what exactly it means because I’ve never been in a Boston Market. (Because I’m from another social strata altogether apparently.) But it means something, I’m sure.
I fantasized later that I’d followed them inside. “You know why they make Boston Markets, motherfucker? So people like you don’t bother me while I’m eating my Chicken McNuggets!” (Or, I dunno, while I’m at Beretta eating my bruschette of crescenza and broccoli rabe. I really don’t know. What is Boston Market??)