Dear Dr. Perfect,

Why do old people sit a McDonald’s for so long? Are they spying on me? Are they fantasizing about my sex life? What should I do about this emergency? 

A burger eater who wants some peace.

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Dear loyal McPerson,

As someone who occasionally slums in fast-fooderies, I’ll attempt some insight. The grand mystique of senior citizens, their daily routines, and their eating habits remain a fascinating case study for the ages. 

The golden arches provide an inevitable glimpse of a future that awaits those fortunate enough to live that long. I’m almost certain spying is part of the deal.

Social Security checks aren’t cheap. In return, the government regularly recruit older persons to monitor our activities and report accordingly. After all, who suspects the frail and worn among us of anything?

I stumbled upon this realization at the bank. An older man repeatedly dropped his checkbook in line, kneeling to retrieve it while glancing up a young woman’s skirt.

Creepy behavior, for sure, but it got me thinking. These Olds are toying with us! He then whispered into his earpiece.

There’s nothing suspicious about sitting at McDonald’s for an extended period. The place has free Wi-Fi, unlimited refills, and a plastic, artificial atmosphere best suited for mature sensibilities.

Occasionally, I treat myself to a hamburger, small fry, and diet soda when the mood is right.

I choose to eat inside to protest our fast-food drive-thru culture. I take slow, measured bites and watch the world outside race nowhere.

During my latest dine-in, I noticed curious glances from a booth of senior citizens. Their stoic expressions signified annoyance or outright hostility toward a younger man of my stature invading their space. They could have been fantasizing about my sexual life, too. 

One could let it go, but I leaped into action. I walked over and said hello to the two couples.

“My coffee’s too hot,” the bonnet-wearing Bea Arthur look-alike lamented.

“My apple strudel’s a little dry,” her Abe Vigoda-looking companion added.

The other man projected a Wilford Brimley vibe and nodded.

His lady companion didn’t resemble any celebrity I knew of, but she did have a lovely eyepatch.

I kindly explained that I didn’t work there but could pass their concerns along to the staff. “Isn’t it great to sit and relax during such a beautiful day?” I continued. From there, these elders could regale me with their wisdom and life experience, I thought.

“What are you running for again?” Abe Vigoda asked, puzzled.

The others stared at their crossword puzzles.

Bea Arthur asked if I could refill her coffee.

I took her cup to the counter, admiring their tactics. Good spies never blow their cover.

Never underestimate anyone, especially senior citizens. Next time, eat at Burger King. I don’t know anyone who goes there.

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Dr. Perfect has slung advice across the globe for the last two decades due to his dedication to the uplift of the human condition.