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Monday, August 23, 2004

I don't mean to be a fussy eater, but I've just visited McDonalds at Brighton Marina for an all-new Toffee Crisp McFlurry (as part of a balanced diet), and the girl who served me (I didn't notice whether she was crewmember of the month, but I doubt it), chose to fetch my McFlurry, then stand for a few moments cooling herself down by stroking her forehead with my pot of ice cream. Having carefully wiped the sweat from her brow with my lunch, she smiled, handed it over, and charged me 99p for the privilege.

I'm not sure McDonalds health & safety guidelines recommend a garnish of sweat on their takeaway food, but being British, I decided not to complain. And besides, some men will pay a fortune for items bathed with the richly scented sweat of a pretty young girl. Apparently. So they might have charged me extra. Personally though, I like the liquid dripping down the side of my ice cream pot to be condensation, not perspiration, so I wasn't entirely happy with my fast food experience.

And the worst thing is, I think I prefer Crunchie McFlurries anyway.