Food Vendors: Unlucky teenage Macdonalds employees who get rostered on the graveyard shift. Life is characteristically unfair. Most of the time you try and strive towards attaining something you want, like a job or a girl or being skinny, and then some stupid dick who didn’t even want it stumbles over it.
They snap it up while you watch your dream be wretched away from you in a frustratingly causal manner.
Fucking comical.
However, life does offer some compensation. Like when you’re drunk and all you can think about is a gigantic frikken cheeseburger, and just like your shattered dream you would do anything for it, and then you go into Macdonals and give them $2 and your dream comes true.
Food brings people together. The promise of a Big Mac Meal can stop street fights and potentially save lives. Many beautiful relationships have started with sharing a bucket of KFC chips and with every fast food outlet there is the constant promise of warm refuge under fluorescent lights. It’s beautiful.
The comfort you give us is priceless and I don’t think you know how instrumental you foodies are in making our nights out magical. One time, there was this guy with a barbecue doing a sausage sizzle in the middle of Chapel street at 2 am. I have never felt elation like that in my entire 20 years of life.
Thank you, causal employees, who would probably rather be doing anything else than working in hospitality on the weekend. Thank you for trying to decipher our drunken slurs at drive through, for cooking french fries, for giving us extra mayonnaise even though you know we didn’t pay for it when we come back and say we did. Thank you for being a constant comfort in a scary world of volatile change. Thank you for making our dreams a greasy reality.
Forever yours,
Drunken people.
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