Yesterday, when we were driving home from the airport, I got a sudden urge for some salty McDonald's french fries. It seems we've noticed many McDonald's restaurants in our travels around Doha, so I thought scooting through a drive thru would be no big deal. I quickly punch "McDonald's" into the GPS. Great - there is one about a two miles from here.
Not saying anything about what a pain in the ass I am, Colin turns us around and finds the spot. Not sure how old the satellite map is, but our 'destination' is nothing but a sand lot. What? Now I want fries more than ever.
The next McDonald's on the GPS locator is 4 miles away and looks to be in a mall, so I skip that one. I am searching for a drive thru - my mind is made up. Third time is a charm, right?
Number three is a success - it has a 24 hour drive thru! Yay! But guess what? The drive thru is a man standing in the back of the building. No menu. He IS the menu. I get my fries and a McChicken (from memory) and Colin orders something called a "Mctasty". The man tallies up our bill in his mind (38QR), then runs ahead to the drive thru window (yes, they have one!), leans inside with his body, makes change, and runs back to our car. Side note - it was 38 degrees yesterday.
Good thing we don't crave fast food too often - this place was a bit out of the way. Anyhow, my meal tasted like any McDonald's I've ever had, but Colin's surprise "McTasty" was very "McNasty". He didn't eat it. Oops!