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Big Mac Attack

I was pulling up to the McDonald’s drive through to order some lunch when I had the urge to try a Big Mac. In all the times I’ve been to McDonalds—how many hundreds of times in 40 years—I’ve never had a Big Mac.

The picture on the menu board looked good, and I was really hungry. But what comes on the Big Mac? I don’t like tomatoes or pickles on my burgers, but asking the ingredients of a sandwich at the drive through box can be aggravating, and unproductive.

But then that jingle popped into my head:

Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun.

When was the last time I heard that? 20 years ago? Longer? Now that is a good jingle. “Good” meaning it works for the advertiser—it stuck in my mind for a couple decades, and came to my thoughts right when I needed it.

Anyway, I ordered the Big Mac, minus the pickles. It’s a good sandwich. Really good. But it’s big, and fatty, and probably shortened my life expectancy by nine months. I probably won’t eat another one because of how bad it is for me, but it tasted great. Especially that special sauce.

And now I can’t get that damn jingle out of my head.


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