McDonald’s, according to journalist Chris Arnade, often is the only place for the very poor to meet and relax. It’s open to all in a way that most other places, including community centers and homeless shelters, aren’t. Arnade’s blog is here and here‘s some more on his book Dignity.
My friend H. is Swedish. His grandfather was came from Swedish nobility and was as far on the other side of the class divide from the McDonald’s patrons Arnade talks about as is possible.
When H. was a small kid, he didn’t see much of his grandfather, but he remembers one occasion when the old man had been tasked with looking after him and his two brothers. To nobody’s surprise, when dinnertime came around, he didn’t cook for them but instead asked them where they wanted to go eat. “McDonald’s!” the three boys shouted. Kids love McDonald’s in Sweden too. When they got there, H. recalls, his grandfather looked puzzled at first, but once the boys had explained that he needed to order at the counter, he resolutely walked up and addressed the teenager behind it: “Will you show me your wine list please?”
I can’t think of a better marker of upper class status than this anecdote.
Nehaveigur 