Since all good things come in threes (wishes, Graces, Stooges, Ménage-à-Trois..es), this is the third in a series of three posts on some Amero-centric topic. I don’t know what it is, but I’m on a Hispano-American comparison kick. I assure you, though, it’s only temporary, and this will be the last one for a while.

At any rate, we were out pub crawling again tonight in search of the elusive free food that intermittently comes with the beer (’tis a valiant quest: we’ve discovered parts of the city that aren’t listed on any tourist map), and as we were walking home, Al and I were suddenly hit with a wicked, undeniable craving for something sweet (damn munchies). We did a quick survey of our immediate locale, and realizing that there were no quick-rips around that would carry such vittles (side note, even in Spain, the quick-rips are run by Asians…”Hora!“), we caved and went to the one place we swore we wouldn’t visit while in Spain: Mc-F’ing-Donald’s (come on, it was RIGHT THERE and it was the only thing open…still…we’re so ashamed).

In an attempt to still honor our No American Fast Food Pledge (which for the purposes of this story now only includes burgers, fries and chicken), we settled on milk shakes, as that seemed the least culturally offensive. Unfortunately, milk shakes haven’t yet made the translation, so we agreed to split a McFlurry. (Side note #2: I’m personally happy to report that I’ve never had a McFlurry in the States, so in a way—to me, at least—it’s a Spanish…um…”delicacy”. Rationalizing, I know, but it’ll help me sleep better tonight.)

So we’re standing in the Mc-F’ing-Donald’s waiting for to order, and we both felt that something was eerily familiar (aside, of course, from it being a Mc-F’ing-Donald’s), and then it dawned on us: even in Spain, the Mc-F’ing-Donalds(es?) are staffed by South Americans and managed by white guys! It was surreal. As we were discussing this odd phenomenon on the way home, we decided that it would infinitely suck to make it all the way to Spain (which is a significantly more expensive and difficult crossing than that into Texas, even with the MinuteMen), and end up working at a Mc-F’ing-Donald’s.

What to do, what to do…(and DON’T say “Build a wall!”)

So between the facts that (1) the quick-rips are owned and staffed by Asians and (2) there even ARE Mc-F’ing-Donalds and (3) said Mc-F’ing-Donalds(es?) are staffed by South Americans and managed by white guys, tonight felt a very oddly American cliche. We’re hoping it’s only because Madrid is a newer city (by European standards), and very modern and pro-Western, and as such, feels similar to most other big Western cities. We didn’t get the American heebie-jeebies in Segovia—a smaller, older city—so we hope it hasn’t run rampant through the hinterlands. Our trip to Toledo (not Ohio) this weekend should give us another comparative datapoint. If they have a Wal-Mart, I’m going to kill myself.

Stay tuned.

-bleedingly liberal bdmc