Puddle. A collective noun.

  With the rise of food delivery services, (and if you live in the city), you'll have no doubt noticed not only the proliferation of bicycles and scooters being ridden by riders with massive cube shaped rucksacks or huge top boxes but also the occasional nesting sites where a few of them gather to compare stories while they wait for the next order to come in. I have decided that the collective noun for such a group is a puddle.

  One of life's little journeys took me down the Old Kent Road today, where I passed a massive McDonalds drive through. In the car park, out of the way of the regular punters was one such puddle. For some reason this really blew my mind. People order their McDonalds via deliveroo!?!? What the fuck is going on???
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  Why this should be a surprise is also weird. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to think of all the wasters in front of their screens too apathetic to get themselves to McDonalds. With an imperceptible increase in their calorie usage they are able to summon a ripple of activity from the puddle of riders and have a bag of salt, sugar and fat delivered straight to their bloated mouths.

  And why not take the path of least resistance? If you're eating that shit then getting it delivered for a few extra quid is going to feel like a no brainer. Who gives a shit about my eye rolling sanctimony? It's just my sense of despair that gets me to draw attention to it but listening to my moaning is a lot less attractive a proposition than having a Bg Mac, large fries and a chocolate shake brought straight to your door.

  Talk about naivety, this behaviour has been staring me in the face and I've only just realised. I'm a bit like the kid who suddenly realised that their parents must have actually had sex. Who on earth did I think was paying the wages of the countless puddles of riders, twee, middle class fuckers ordering from their local Peruvian or Ethiopian eateries? Really? Wake the fuck up!




Kirk out




RevoltingFood.com

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