I’ve been a little lax on text posts lately because I’ve been working a lot. Writing. Making money, but not a lot of it. I was in Coshocton, OH for a while, long enough for an old man to mutter under his breath “Just get a job,” every time he saw me typing away at the McDonald’s. He said these things to his wife and he thought I couldn’t hear him because I had headphones in. But I wasn’t listening to anything.
That’s the thing about rural (or semi-rural) McDonald’s, though: they all have regulars. People come in daily and I can’t imagine how they do it. I’m at a point where McDonald’s makes me sick. I can’t eat it. And some people (geriatrics) use the McDonald’s as their local meetinghouse.