French Fry Satan

So here is another issue with my commute to and from work.

On my way there it happens about 10 minutes from getting off the highway and on my way home about 15 minutes from leaving the office and it is the worst thing ever. Ever.

What is this horrible happenstance you ask?

Well, at the above mentioned junctures in the road, no matter what time of year, no matter what time of day and no matter whether or not I have the air or heat on, like an aggressive telemarketer, the heavy smell of McDonalds French fries wafts through my car.

Ok, so first and foremost, this is weird because there are no McDonalds lining the 401 and in fact, the buildings that are all have giant smoke stacks and look uber industrial and nothing like a McDonalds. So that’s weird right?

I know that everything McDonalds is scorned for being super processed and made out of random bits and pieces but I reject the notion that their French fries are made in a plant on the side of the highway with a smokestack. Because they are real potatoes. Right? Real ones?

Anyways, so, very strange for sure that this smell comes from seemingly nowhere but also as a former fat kid, this provides me with a serious issue.

In my former days, French fries were my biggest vice. On a normal and average day I would eat about 2 full plates of French fries (and my feelings) and top it off with one of those cheese and broccoli baked potatoes. To say that the spud is better than sex would seem ridiculous to some but to me, although I do place sex higher, I totally understand. When I made the commitment to lose weight, and after my dabble in “eat nothing but apples all day for weeks” and “eat 3 raisins every 30 minutes diet” I did the right thing and gave my diet an overhaul to ensure that everything I ate was healthy, local, organic if possible and in moderation. The only drastic measure I took was to fully eliminate potatoes and all potato esque things from my world. To the point that in my most favorite of all processed soups, Vegetarian Vegetable by Cambells, I would pick out the tiny chunks of potato and leave them for the green bin.

I would claim a potato allergy, if asked, and would avoid them like the plague.

A few years ago, many pounds later, I felt ready to reintroduce potato into my world. I knew I had to exercise extreme caution as my love of French fries could easily, at any given moment, cause me to shovel literal pounds of them into my mouth.

I have since been ok, breaking every so often for some poutine, or a plate of cafeteria, extra oily deliciousness with Ketchup

But. If you are going to stink up my car twice a day, every week at times where I am always hungry, then to hell (or my stomach) with you potato.

How unfair that after an 8 hour day, having likely spent my late afternoon “snacking” on carrot sticks you come in, uninvited, to my car and tempt my every fiber with your unhealthy and fat inducing scent. How can I come home and make a grilled chicken salad dinner with any ounce of happiness with your aroma lingering in my nostrils?

And, in the morning, how can I enjoy digestion of my Kefir and berry mixture while you are in the air. You but remind me of the bacon and sausage and waffles and pancakes that I would be eating if not for my ass (and arteries).

As if my commute was not bad enough, you go ahead and make it even more awful.

I am 100 percent sure that if I believed in hell, my personal hell would be to live forever in a room full of fresh and frozen French fries alike and have to just smell them but never get to eat them. So whoever is producing the smell, to me, is Satan.

You, French fry scent demon, are not my friend.