Classy Lee How to be classy and stay classy


Classy McDonalds

I love Michigan. I have lived here my entire life. There are a lot of great places to visit and the state has a very rich history. I recently visited a hidden gem of the state known as the Manistee National Forest to go backpacking (Grundle was there too), located on the northwest side of the lower peninsula. The forest is absolutely beautiful, but the locals around there are a little off. Perhaps growing up in a suburban environment has skewed my world view, but the people around this area make me feel extremely out of place. After leaving the trail Grundle and I were tired and very hungry from a long day of backpacking. We decided to stop at the one fine dining establishment in town - the McDonald's. I normally never eat fast food, especially McDonalds, but after burning close to 2500 calories from backpacking I would eat anything. We are sitting down enjoying our deliciously sugary Cokes, salty fries, and mediocre burgers as we soak in the local fare. Between the grizzled old men complaining to the cashiers about paying taxes for processed foods, the homely and overweight lady walking around wearing sweatpants too small with a torn t-shirt and hiking boots, and the group of hunters gathered around discussing their hate for minorities (probably), we notice a car parked outside that could rival the Classmaster GT.

A late model Mercury Grand Marquis happened to be stranded in a parking spot from a catastrophic front-driver-side suspension failure. I am no mechanic, but I do understand cars enough to know that these things just do not happen out of nowhere. There are usually warning signs that one's suspension is having issues, e.g. vibrations, rust, strange noises, poor alignment, and a rough ride. The strangest thing about this car was that it appeared to have been parked when the suspension failure occurred. There was no way this car could have been driven to McDonald's like this. The tire in-motion rubbing against the steel fender-well would have surely shredded the rubber, and the lack of steering alone would have made driving impossible. This car must have had a post-park suspension failure while the owner was in mid-chew of his McDouble.

Grundle and I watched through the window as the owner went out to inspect his car. He had a close resemblance to Chris Farley while wearing sweatpants and an over-sized NWO t-shirt (Oh man, remember the NWO? Remember 1997?). He was laying on the ground for a couple couple of minutes until he realized that he needed to find another ride quickly if he is to go home to watch reruns of Hollywood Hogan and the Wolfpac. In sheer confusion regarding what had happened to this 'Merican made luxury sedan, our local Macho Man Randy Savage hitched a ride with his female sweatpants counterpart.

Ladies and gentleman, I dub this car, the Classmaster LTD.

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