If you haven’t noticed, I’ve moved onto wordpressed pastures. This is a new blog, but there’s a link to my old wordpress, and I’ll just put this blog to rest properly.
After finishing the last bite, he contained all the refuse into the paper bag and dumped it into the bin on his way out. He retained the cup of soft drink that came with his meal, and slowly sipped it on his way to the underground station. Upon leaving, he felt a twinge of his home town atmosphere. But it was not in the sense that South of the Thames London was like his Stockport in the North West; the evening time, and the waft of grease, grilled meat, and card condensation momentarily threw him back to evening meal treats of junk food that were so zealously advertised and partaken by many of his age as a child.
It was a frequently chosen venue by his father, clearly lacking taste for other food establishments, clearly a cheapskate, or simply falling back on the knowledge that this one fast food restaurant held a place in his son’s heart.
What a shame. He believed this mode of thought a product of a corporation embedding themselves into the culture. By means of advertising and monetary success, they have expanded their business, and their place in the population’s sub-conscious, as home of the reliable and rather affordable provisions, served on a plastic tray, or a paper bag if you are of an even greater impatience. Opening that carton, to find your hot round sandwich meal, to be one of the most familiar and unchanging moments sank his heart a little.
He took his drink onto the train and sat down, swashed it around to hear the familiar rattling of ice against waxed paper drinking cup. The condensation cried onto his jeans as he sat there. How beautiful that something so trivial brought up sentiments so meaningful to him. Yet how awful that a deep emotional revelation had the manacles of corporate design deep rooted within it.