McWrap

mcdonalds-Ranch-Snack-Wrap-CrispyMcWrap? Seriously?

“Is it any McGood?”,   “Not McReally, in fact it’s McWrap.”

Actually, I’ve not tried one yet, but nonetheless surely Ronald’s latest wheeze has to be one of the best marketing blunders since the Birdseye[1] ‘Codpieces’ debacle.

Amélie, who just turned 8, giggled about a McWrap billboard on the way home last night and, as a parent, I was torn between being proud and ashamed.

I settled on proud (because we’d covered the whole ‘crap’ thing in an entirely adult way recently, after I’d been a little injudicious in my commentary of something or other on the telly) and because she spotted the pun before I did.  That’s my girl!

As a fan of travel, I mostly hated the ubiquitous McDonalds that rear their ugly heads, like the fruiting bodies of some enormous underground globalization fungus, in even the most unspoiled corners of the planet.

But, just occasionally, the sight of the golden arches hoving into view would be a blessing.

There are far too many ways in which one can have a go at the machinations of the manic burger-machine to cover adequately here, but two things one generally can’t fault McDonalds for is the cleanliness of their kitchens and the cleanliness of their toilet facilities.

When you’re shuffling along the dusty streets of Tierra Del Nowhere with the crab-like gait of someone who has a crippling dose of ‘turista’, and has severely overestimated the maximum safe distance from the hotel porcelain, spotting a big yellow ‘M’ is just the first chapter in a small but blissful story of relief.

For me therefore, phonically at least, ‘having a McCrap’ was a generally positive experience, but not one that involved anything you’d like to see poking out of a tortilla and surrounded by salad.

To me, the only possible explanation is that the plan was invented, and sold to various committees in the generally anglophone organisation, by someone who didn’t have English as a first language – but was, nonetheless, too senior and scary to challenge with an objection that basically revolved around poo.

Speaking of revolving around poo, I’m thinking of writing to them and suggesting that they start offering McToast and McJam with their breakfast menu.  They could then provide an tool applying the latter to the former, and call it the McSpreader.

Remember, you read it here first.

[1] possibly a wholly apocryphal story, and possibly not involving Birdseye.

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