by Michael Wayne
An open letter to McDonalds, Pizza Hut and KFC.
It hasn’t been an easy decision to make, and I’ve spent many sleepless nights deliberating. We’ve had it so good for so long, but I’ve finally mustered up the courage to walk away. I know this comes as a shock, and you’re probably wondering what you did wrong. It’s…it’s honestly one of those things that’s nobody’s fault. Things were said, mistakes were made…nobody knew when to say ‘when’. But I’m saying it now.
Sure, we had some good times. When we first met, you were young and I was even younger, maybe too young. You stood out in a crowd. Your colour, your shape, your charm. You sold yourself to me like I was the only one on the planet…and it worked. Mickey D, you promised me happiness wrapped up in a box. Colonel, you seduced me with your forwardness – the idea of licking fingers scandalised me…as much as it electrified me. Pizza Hut, you were just so selfless, and it won me over. You said I could have as much of you as I wanted. You promised so much…and you delivered.
There was chemistry from the get-go. I couldn’t help feeling guilty for entertaining all three of you at once, but I’m sure it worked both ways – you don’t serve over a billion in an exclusive relationship. Young love works in mysterious, yet not unwelcome ways. I started seeing you everywhere. Bus stops, cinemas, shopping centres. Even watching TV in the comfort of my home, you’d appear…and entice me with your wares. The honeymoon, it seemed, would never end.
We laughed together when I told you of the others, the failed suitors attempting to steal me away from you. You slyly asked why you had succeeded where they had failed, and I admit I got a buzz from telling you. Jack’s hunger came off as too desperate. Wendy didn’t offer the whole package, only dessert. Red was too quick to get his cock out. Simple things, really…but important ones.
But along the way, you started to get complacent. You let yourselves go in the way lovers so often do when they think they’ve got it made. You thought you had my love on tap, and that I would follow you wherever you went. Mickey, I know you tried hard for awhile; you showered me with gifts whenever we’d dine, you weren’t afraid to try new things…but somewhere along the way I think you lost track of who you were. You were too busy trying to attract the MILFs (yes, I noticed your eyes wandering) and clean up your act that you stopped being the one I fell in love with. Suddenly, you felt so distant. You weren’t there for me as I watched TV anymore. You listlessly offered me apples and juices, like you hadn’t spent years indulging my sweet tooth. I suddenly felt so anonymous. Then came the day where you stopped asking me if I wanted fries (that old in-joke of ours). You just gave me a salad without asking. I’m sorry, but you just don’t know me anymore. And I don’t know you.
Colonel, our encounters used to be so quick ‘n dirty, skin on skin. I’d end up with sticky fingers every time we hooked up. I know you gave me those moist towelettes, but I knew you liked it better without protection. If only I’d known how much you liked it, and how far you were willing to go. I started to notice how sick you were looking. How your other lovers were catching illnesses they shouldn’t have…couldn’t have…if you’d been doing the right thing. Potato and gravy isn’t meant to look like that. I realised you were hopelessly addicted to taking risks, and as exciting as that was at first, it’s a new era. Disease is rampant, and I just can’t take those risks anymore. Please get yourself checked, you’re not being fair to the ones who will come after me.
Pizza Hut…your doors were always open to me. I’d ask “Your place or mine?” and both options were always on the table. I always felt I could call you, and you always inquired after my needs. I don’t know if you knew it then, but you were the only one brave enough to come to my place. But if I felt I needed something more than a one nighter, I knew the invitation was always there to visit you, to rest my head on your shoulder. Suddenly, that went away. Suddenly, you were always at my place. I asked you a few times why I could no longer visit you, why I could no longer have as much of you as I wanted, but you’d brush me off. That’s just how I felt: brushed off. I was always having to call you, and I don’t like to always have to do the work. Sometimes I liked to pop in on you and grab lunch, or those intimate dinners your place was so suited for. Obviously it wasn’t as good for you as you let on, and that realisation makes me feel like I can’t trust you anymore.
So this is goodbye. You must have known in your heart of hearts that it was young love, and that it couldn’t last forever. I know it may just sound like I can’t handle change, progression, maturity, but it’s not that simple. It’s not easy for me, believe me – I’ve thrown so much of my time and money into these relationships, trying to make them work…but it’s just so clear to me now that it can’t. Your actions, my wants and needs, your long term strategies…they’re just not as compatible as they once were.
I know I’ll still feel your eyes on my body as I walk past, but you need to know that you can’t have it anymore. I worked hard to keep myself in good shape while we were together, and that will be even easier now. I can’t help the way I look. You just never let me know if you appreciated it. Sometimes I felt you would have preferred me as a fat tub of lard. I caught you a few times eyeing the fatties, and it upset me. In the back of my mind I knew you preferred them, and at the same time I knew I could never be what you wanted me to be.
I hope you realise now why this has to end. I hope you understand.
All the best.