It’s 4:30 in the afternoon on a godforsaken Tuesday in February at the worst McDonald’s in the world. The line is long, the floor is wet, and all I want is a small coffee. Cheeseburger after cheeseburger I wait, watching the attendant run from the fryer to the cash register, as I fume like the hot apple pie. My boss is probably wondering where I am, and the woman in front of me is customizing her salad like she’s at the Ritz. I take no pride in the fact that I’ve become the guy who mutters to himself. Finally, it’s my turn.
“Want to try our 20-piece chicken McNugget Fan Pack?” asks the teenager with a nose ring who looks at me like I’m my dad. No, I don’t want to try 20 McNuggets. What am I, 12? I’m a 40-year-old man on deadline. I need coffee-at this point, poured straight into my eye.
“Yes,” I say, and I grimace, an expression that’s become all too familiar since I started saying yes to everything three days ago.
I schlep my ridiculous chicken back to my desk with its two sodas and two medium french fries, smelling like a food court. Then I eat one: remarkable. Who needs coffee? I eat my chicken, and my chicken is good.
My name is Ben Kaplan, and I’m father to Matthew, three months old, and Esme, two and a half years. I’ve been married to Julie since 2006, and we’ve been together since 2001. I work at the National Post in Toronto and write about culture while co-spearheading EachCoach.com, a new social network for runners. And for one week, I’ve decided to say yes to everything.