One evening, my wife suddenly craved McDonald’s pickles. She was expecting, and I knew how much these little things mattered, so I rushed to the nearest McDonald’s. At the counter, I asked if I could buy just a container of pickles. The cashier gave me a sympathetic smile but explained they couldn’t sell them separately.
Not ready to give up, I joked, “Okay then, give me 100 hamburgers with extra pickles, and hold everything else.” She blinked, unsure if I was serious, and went to get the manager. When he arrived, I quickly explained, “My wife is pregnant, and she’s been craving McDonald’s pickles. Please—I can’t go home without them.”
