You can often find me parked outside a local fast-food joint, sipping on a large Diet Coke like it’s the most anticipated part of my day. For me, it’s a moment of joy, akin to the way many people cherish their morning coffee or, let’s be honest, their intimate moments. I relish this daily ritual; it invigorates me and provides the caffeine kick I crave to kick off my day.
The sensation of the fizzy drink hitting my throat is nothing short of euphoric. There’s a reason why their soda is so incredibly satisfying—the ideal temperature combined with the perfect syrup-to-water ratio leaves many, whether they admit it or not, yearning for another sip as soon as their cup is empty. I’m clearly not alone in this obsession; it seems like a universal truth that this establishment has mastered the art of serving the world’s best soft drinks. Even the straws they use are top-notch!
So there it is: I have a profound love for fast food, and I’m unapologetic about it. I know society often frowns upon such admissions; it’s more fashionable to boast about shopping at organic markets post-yoga (which I do partake in as well). But I’m here to be real. My family and I prioritize healthy meals most days, but I can’t deny the sheer pleasure of indulging in fast food when the occasion calls for it.
What’s not to love about getting a soda (any size, but let’s be honest, a large is the only option) for just a buck? I enjoy driving through with my kids on hectic evenings, and their excitement rivals that of a home-cooked meal I’ve spent hours preparing.
Walking into that restaurant is like stepping into paradise—the aroma of freshly cooked fries is nothing short of divine. I have no shame in admitting I cherish those moments alone in my car, digging into a brown paper bag of fries, savoring two (okay, maybe five) at a time. It’s a $6 date with myself, and I relish it.
I once brought my tasty treats to a nail salon, and the receptionist was so captivated by the delicious scent that she dashed out to grab her own meal, returning to share her excitement with me. We clinked our Diet Coke cups in a moment of camaraderie that felt truly special.
Growing up in the ’80s, I was fortunate to enjoy fast food without the stigma that seems to have emerged today. My mom treated us to McDonald’s a few times each month; it was a special occasion we looked forward to. Hot summer days after the beach were often capped by a trip to enjoy those salty fries and the thrill of discovering which toy was hiding in our Happy Meals.
When I’m dealing with PMS, you can bet I’ll stroll in and order a hefty serving of fries alongside a chocolate shake. The friendly staff at my local spot know me well enough to toss in an extra cherry for my shake. Now that’s what I call excellent service!
I’m fully aware of the contents of their food, and I know it’s not organic. But I refuse to deny my unwavering love for this place. No other restaurant can create a bag of fries and a large soda quite like they do. Strangely enough, after recovering from a cold, I crave a Quarter Pounder to bring me back to life. It’s the greasy comfort I need, and I devour it without a shred of guilt.
Feel free to judge me for my fast-food passion and for allowing my kids to indulge as well. But I’m here to stay—I’m not ready to give up my love for those Diet Cokes, crispy fries, and shakes topped with cherries. Some days call for a healthy salad with vinaigrette, while others simply demand a hefty serving of deep-fried goodness. And of course, it wouldn’t be complete without that Diet Coke.
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In summary, I embrace my love for fast food without any regrets. It’s a guilty pleasure that brings me joy and comfort, and I’m perfectly okay with that.