Creampuff Buys a Homeless Person Breakfast at McDonald's

Yonge Street. 8:00 a.m. I don’t usually put pants on this early in the morning, but there’s something wrong with my eyes. I spent yesterday worrying about how I was going to go blind like Helen Keller’s teacher Annie Sullivan, but without having actually taught anyone shit. This morning, Katr encouraged me to go to the Shoppers to get some freakin’ drops.

I’m not going to lie to you. I was feeling a little sorry for myself this morning. Other than the eye thing, I didn’t have a particularly good reason, or really any reason - I got my tax return the other day, my work is going really well, I didn’t fall for the banana in the tailpipe - but still.

When your eyes are red and itchy and it’s 8:00 a.m., and you’ve bought the $11.00-no-hand-job-included drops and you’re feeling like a self-indulgent twat, the next step, naturally, is to set yourself up with breakfast from McDonald’s. Did I NEED to have Raunchy’s for breakfast? No. Did I really WANT McDonald’s for breakfast? Not really. But a Sausage McMuffin fest just seemed like the suitably pathetic choice and I was all ready to make it.

I was next in line when I felt a gentle pressure on my arm and heard a voice whisper “Cafar nan a brochkeh?” I looked around for Helen Keller, who probably had a little trouble being understood when she learned to speak. Instead, I saw this woman I’d passed on the street outside on my way in. She had no front teeth, which made her a little harder to understand, but she was calmly and assertively asking me if I would be interested in buying her combo #2.

I like a woman who knows what she wants. We got up to the counter and Meg gave the clerk her order. She took her coffee black and said to me “Mind if I super-size it?” “Be my guest,” says I. “Anything else?” the clerk asked. “Nope.” I handed over the cash and got my change as Meg got her breakfast. I told Meg to “have a good day", ‘cause it’s a hip phrase right now. Also, it seemed to me like MY day had suddenly gotten a lot better. Meg nodded at me approvingly, then went off with her tray. And I walked out McMuffin-less.

I came home. I put the drops in my eyes and then I made myself some breakfast. Because hey - I had food at home the whole time!

So, that’s my story. I could finish with a moral to the story but I think that might be a little obvious. All I can say is that I hope Meg enjoyed her breakfast. ‘Cause that’s the LAST CENT THOSE HOMELESS ARE GETTIN’ FROM ME.