Fast Food

The topic of this particular blog post is not actually about fast food itself, but about two oddly coincidental incidents that happened at fast food restaurants.

One of my earliest memories is of the day I was adopted. I vaguely recall the adoption proceedings themselves but I do remember what happened afterward. I was three and a half and to celebrate my adoption my new parents took me out to eat. It was a fast food restaurant a few blocks from the courthouse in Riverside, Ca. I had a milk shake and fries. I was so happy, I had a mommy and daddy. Wasn't this how all children got their mommies and daddies? By being adopted?
Fast forward thirteen years later, and after being in the system for four years. The courts had finally had enough of my constant running away. It was time for me to make a decision, become emancipated or go home with my adoptive parents. I chose the latter.
Back at Hillcrest Receiving Home, I gathered what belongings I had and waited in anxious anticipation. When they arrived, I was told I would not be needing my belongings so I left them behind and went with my adoptive parents. We made quick stop at McDonald's for soda and coffee. After a brief conversation my adoptive parents excused themselves to the bathrooms and asked me to watch their coffee cups. Several minutes later they emerged from the restrooms and promptly walked out the back door of the restaurant heading to their car. I quickly abandoned the coffee and followed. As my mom got in the car I heard my dad say, "Get in and lock it". The car door slammed, the clicking of the lock sounded, and they drove away into the night.
Ironic isn't it?