One writer gets well acquainted with sausage and egg McMuffins, in the name of journalism.
Photograph: Mike Blake/Reuters
It’s the stuff that both dreams and diabetes are made of. McDonald’s
has started serving its breakfast menu all day. The fast food chain is
calling it “all day breakfast”.
Just imagine! Breakfast all day, every day! And we’re not talking
bran flakes or cornflakes or any other kind of flakes. This is real
breakfast: sausages and eggs and cheese and bacon. And muffins and
biscuits and pancakes.
So my editor decided put it to the test. She sent me on a mission to
find out what an entire day of eating McDonald’s breakfast feels like.
10am
I should start with a confession: I used to work for the fast food
giant. One day, I had to sweep up maggots in the backyard. I went off
the food after that. But this is all behind me as I’m starting my
only-eating-McDonald’s day.
I played soccer the night before. All I had for dinner was a
bratwurst and three beers. That means I’m actually quite looking forward
to the grease and salt and shame of a McDonald’s breakfast.
I order a sausage and egg McMuffin at a downtown McDonalds. It comes
with a hash brown. I don’t like hash browns. They give me heartburn. I
decide to endure the acid reflux.
Back at the office a colleague, nose wrinkled, asks “what the hell” I am doing.
“Eating McDonald’s breakfast all day.”
“Why?”
“Told to.”
“Well, can you eat it somewhere else? It stinks.”
Zantac count: 1. Complaints from colleagues: 1. Sachets of ketchup: 5.
12.30pm
I’m hungry again. I head back to McDonald’s. The staff are wearing t-shirts with the legend “all day breakfast” on the front. One employee is in charge of directing the line. She is having a hard time explaining the concept behind the all day breakfast.
“No. It’s not a free breakfast. Nothing is free,” she tells a disappointed-looking man. He leaves. I buy two sausage burritos. They come as a pair. They come with a hash brown. I still don’t like hash browns.
I take the ensemble back to the office. The sausage burritos do not taste very nice. Like the sausage and egg McMuffin, they smell.
“What are you doing?” asks a colleague. It’s a different colleague from before.
“Eating McDonald’s breakfast all day.”
“Err, I think that’s been done. Wasn’t there a documentary about it?”
Smart arse. Someone else stops by and notices the mounting collection of empty ketchup sachets, McDonald’s bags and hash brown wrappers.
“You are disgusting,” this person says. I know it.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: 3. Sachets of ketchup: 9.
3pm
My appetite is yet to be sated. I traipse back to McDonald’s. All around me people are smiling, happy, enjoying the sun. My heart is black and I am dead inside. The woman directing the line recognizes me. I try and muster some friendliness.
“I’m a sucker for punishment!” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I am banished to the line in the corner.
I have another sausage and egg McMuffin. I enjoyed that one this morning. I don’t enjoy this one.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: still 3. Sachets of ketchup: 11.
6pm
I’m going on a date. I hope she isn’t hungry. She is hungry.
“How about McDonald’s?” I suggest. “I’m eating the breakfast all day.”
“Why?”
“Boss made me.”
We walk to McDonald’s. I’m relieved to go to one where people don’t know me by name.
I offer to buy my date a sausage and egg McMuffin. She says she’s vegan. I buy a sausage and egg McMuffin and eat it in front of her on the street. It’s hard to be 100% certain what she is thinking, but she doesn’t look very impressed.
The sausage and egg McMuffins are beginning to repeat on me as we walk to a bar across the road. My date stands up and leaves while I am halfway through a beer.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: still 3. Sachets of ketchup: 13. Chances of happiness destroyed: 1.
8
pm
I go back to my regular McDonald’s. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. I eat a fourth sausage and egg McMuffin while I look up the email address for HR.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: still 3. Sachets of ketchup: 13. Chances of happiness destroyed: 1. New friends who work at McDonald’s: 3.
Cr : The Guardian
I’m hungry again. I head back to McDonald’s. The staff are wearing t-shirts with the legend “all day breakfast” on the front. One employee is in charge of directing the line. She is having a hard time explaining the concept behind the all day breakfast.
“No. It’s not a free breakfast. Nothing is free,” she tells a disappointed-looking man. He leaves. I buy two sausage burritos. They come as a pair. They come with a hash brown. I still don’t like hash browns.
I take the ensemble back to the office. The sausage burritos do not taste very nice. Like the sausage and egg McMuffin, they smell.
“What are you doing?” asks a colleague. It’s a different colleague from before.
“Eating McDonald’s breakfast all day.”
“Err, I think that’s been done. Wasn’t there a documentary about it?”
Smart arse. Someone else stops by and notices the mounting collection of empty ketchup sachets, McDonald’s bags and hash brown wrappers.
“You are disgusting,” this person says. I know it.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: 3. Sachets of ketchup: 9.
3pm
My appetite is yet to be sated. I traipse back to McDonald’s. All around me people are smiling, happy, enjoying the sun. My heart is black and I am dead inside. The woman directing the line recognizes me. I try and muster some friendliness.
“I’m a sucker for punishment!” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I am banished to the line in the corner.
I have another sausage and egg McMuffin. I enjoyed that one this morning. I don’t enjoy this one.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: still 3. Sachets of ketchup: 11.
6pm
I’m going on a date. I hope she isn’t hungry. She is hungry.
“How about McDonald’s?” I suggest. “I’m eating the breakfast all day.”
“Why?”
“Boss made me.”
We walk to McDonald’s. I’m relieved to go to one where people don’t know me by name.
I offer to buy my date a sausage and egg McMuffin. She says she’s vegan. I buy a sausage and egg McMuffin and eat it in front of her on the street. It’s hard to be 100% certain what she is thinking, but she doesn’t look very impressed.
The sausage and egg McMuffins are beginning to repeat on me as we walk to a bar across the road. My date stands up and leaves while I am halfway through a beer.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: still 3. Sachets of ketchup: 13. Chances of happiness destroyed: 1.
8
pm
I go back to my regular McDonald’s. Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. I eat a fourth sausage and egg McMuffin while I look up the email address for HR.
Zantac count: 3. Complaints from colleagues: still 3. Sachets of ketchup: 13. Chances of happiness destroyed: 1. New friends who work at McDonald’s: 3.
Cr : The Guardian
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