By Tyle Robinson, a grown man
So, today’s the day I turn 42. It’s been a hell of a run, if I do say so myself. I’ve certainly had some good times, but in all honesty today is sort of bittersweet for me. After this important milestone, I guess it’s the right time to come to terms with the fact that I can no longer play in the McDonald’s PlayPlace without being arrested.
Yes, its nice being mature and not incarcerated, but I have to admit that I’m really going to miss jumping into that giant pile of play balls after eating my five-piece Chicken McNugget meal. I can’t imagine walking into a McDonalds restaurant and not being able to crawl through the brightly colored, urine scented tunnels.
Who am I going to show off my happy meal toys to now?
It’s alright though, I’ve moved past my need to play in the PlayPlace. After the fifth time the police took me away, it seemed pretty clear that I couldn’t return to that vivid wonderland. Oh, the fond memories I have of climbing up those plastic ladders and sliding down those super spiraly slides!
And before you even ask, of course I’ve tried dressing up like a little kid to avoid detection. Some of the parents didn’t appreciate my short shorts and cherry lollipop, but I found it quite tasteful.
You may think that Chuck-E-Cheese would be a great alternative for a guy like me, but to be honest, I’ve never been to a playground as carefree, honest, and filled with badly fed six-year-olds as the ones at McDonalds.
I have no idea what I’m going to do in my spare time now. My wife left me after the second “wrestling” incident, so I’ve been searching for hobbies that don’t involve McDonald’s. I guess now I’ll have time to stay home with my Barbie dolls and Sprite can tower, dreaming of the PlayPlace I called my bed on five separate occasions.
Well, this is certainly a sadder day than I expected. Oh well, there’s always the children’s book section at Borders, I suppose!