What is it with McDonald's?

Reading Maybe Expectant's tale of learning she's not pregnant in a McDonald's bathroom is a story not unlike my own.

When I was 17 or 18, I had a boyfriend (yes, people, a boyfriend. You've got it right, I did what you think I did. More than once. Ew.). During the year plus we were together I had a brief, but fleeting experience with being on the pill. During the transition to that hormonal horror machine, I was about a month late.

Being me, I'd done my homework on the transition, so I wasn't too concerned. I knew that going on the pill could totally fuck up your period so I figured that's all it was. But one of my co-workers at the library got very antsy when somehow, it came out that I was but a teenager and my menses were on hiatus.

So I bought myself a pregnancy test, took that boyfriend and my best friend at the time to a McDonald's, where they ate while I peed on a stick for the first time ever. I was waiting for the second line to not appear when my best friend came in and put her hand over the top of the door, where we held hands until we were sure I was indeed, not with child.

And yes, holding that Hot Girl's hand was more exciting than the sex that had brought me to that moment. Chalk it up to the moment I knew I wasn't a teenage pregnancy statistic and the night I started to figure out that girls (now ladies) were more my deal than dudes.

Which brings me to a lifetime later, when my lady friend and I actually want to see a positive result on that stick. Last weekend, Andrea and I stopped at McDonald's for a Le Snack. We were both very much hoping that I was pregnant but once again, the McDonald's bathroom told me that I'm not With Child.

Except that this time, it wasn't a negative of great joy. I assure you, there will be no McDonald's after our next attempt, lest we create and confirm the Pregnancy Curse of McDonald's.