This was previously published in our September 2025 issue.

The smell of plastic and greasy food fills your nostrils. The squeaking of shoes is so loud it makes your ears hurt, and don’t forget the sound of a kid crying a few feet away for no apparent reason. You’ve just claimed the McDonald’s PlayPlace slide as your own, acting as a 7 year old bouncer anytime someone has the nerve to ask you to use it.

Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I love Chick-fil-A. The #1 with a large sweet tea is my go-to, and my friends have come to terms with the fact that it is my first suggestion when asked where we should go to eat. However, my first thought when you say ‘fast food’ is still good old McDonald’s.

Sporadic memories flood my mind when passing the restaurant. A distinct memory being when my cousin once told her younger sister that a bank, that was near the McDonald’s, was actually just McDonald’s for adults. She believed her.

The food was nice and all—as gourmet as it was— the real flex was strutting into school the next day and telling your friends that you had been to the Playplace. For some reason, that plastic, wobbly, somehow always sticky, indoor playground was a paradise to me as a kid.

Then, the pandemic hit. I was in fifth grade when we were told that we’d have a little break from school. Although, those weeks quickly turned into years. I hadn’t seen my friends in months. But worst of all…fast food restaurants shut down. 

As the world started getting back to normal, and Chick-Fil-A reopened their doors, it was terrifying. The Playplace that was once filled with coughing kids and covered with slick texture from greasy hands was a barren wasteland. Waving to your parents from the foggy window of a plastic car was a thing of the past.

Young me was often brought to McDonald’s by my grandmother. Coupons in hand, she would attempt to contain my endless excitement as I skipped across the parking lot into the home of Ronald McDonald.

Now, the doors that once opened up to hours of entertainment were never unlocked. Eventually, it just slowly disappeared. One by one, the Playplaces were replaced with more seating. With the Playplace, left the joyful decor. Chick-Fil-A’s bright red was casually replaced with white walls and pale counters. And, to my dismay, McDonald’s came to look like exactly what my older cousins had once joked about.

It seems as though these restaurants were trying to grow up with their audience. They’re attempting to sophisticate themselves, glamorizing something that was never meant to be elegant. 

Whoever is making these changes thinks this will bring their customers in, but, in reality, it’s kind of just pushing some of us away. The buildings feel bland and muted, and there’s a lack of giggling kids running in and out.

The decor doesn’t make a restaurant, but in this case, it feels like Ronald McDonald trying to put on a suit and tie and enter a business meeting. Just…why?

At this point in my life, my grandmother and I never go there anymore, instead opting for places like Subway. And, honestly, I’m totally fine with that. I don’t want to taint those colorful childhood memories with the ‘refined,’ bland building they call McDonald’s.