McBreakup

Dear Ron,

By the time you read these words, I'll be gone. As much as it pains me to say this, I can't go on living this lie any longer. It is not fair to you, or to me, or to the "us" I will always cherish. You've been in my life for as long as my memory can stretch. The elation, the excitement, the lip smacking good times we've had. I've let loose in your caboose. I've been to a slew of birthday parties at your pad. I've been with you since the days of styrofoam and sunglass-clad singing moon men. I've recited your menu in iambic pentameter, I've clambered up and into your ol'pal Hamburglar, and delighted in the jail cell belly of Grimace. I've assembled the McDLT, owned many a Smurf-adorned glass, and collected an entire family of Muppet Babies. I remember when Treats of the Week were special. The Lego helicopters, the Playmobil figurines... I. Remember. Your pizza. How cute those m-cum-Zs were. Sigh.

You were always a constant in my life, familiar and inviting. But I am afraid I can no longer take your sinister abuse. Slowly and surely your wicked ways have clouded the special place you once held in my heart. I've forgiven you for McHappygate -- offering the Happy Meal just long enough to allure, only to brutally take them away from Canada. Oh, you brought them back alright, most cruelly after my childhood was done. How repeatedly you crushed me, I would come again and again with hope in my heart that all those commercials I saw on CANADIAN TV couldn't be lies, but oh, they were. And I forgave you. I've watched your food shrink and your prices climb, the teardown of your playgrounds and the closure of the caboose. The crawl back to 10:30 for breakfast end broke my heart, and still, I stayed. I was loyal. But our relationship has become far more take than give, and you leave me empty and hurting. You insult my dignity when you lure me back to your intoxicating embrace.... WITH COLD FRENCH FRIES. I have continually buried these disappointments, picked up the pieces and carried on.

But now...

now that you have discontinued the enchanting elixir that is McDonalds Orange....

YOU HAVE CROSSED THE LINE.

Think of the children, Ronald! Think of the children! What will they drink at track and field meets?! The throat-savaging Red Poisintopia you now offer? Where is the non-carbonated option for those not choosing to bathe their teeth in acid? Even with the myriad of mistakes you have made, the mountain of hurtful disappointments, the one constant you always maintained was the Orange. If the rest of my meal brought me to tears and gastrointestinal assault, I could always count on the Orange. And now... it is too much for my battered soul to bear.

I am going to stay strong this time, Ronald. My absence will be long. I'm sure I will break down eventually, chasten and shame myself for doing so, but I assure you it will be a relationship of sour convenience. When no other options are available I will be forced to grudgingly oblige. And I know this. But you, Ronald, you should know... the love I once had for you, is gone.

Lose my number, bitch.

Devastatedly no longer yours,
~Promkini