After I pulled up to the order board at the McDonald’s drive-through and listened to the perky pre-recorded greeting and gave my order to the actual surly employee and re-gave my order to the actual surly employee and clarified my order to the actual surly employee, he said, “Would you like to donate a dollar to the kids with cancer?”

Which is a tough pitch to turn down. It makes it sound like the kids with cancer are right there with him, dew-eyed and hopeful. And there I am, waiting for my five bucks worth of grease and suger, and I can’t even be bothered to toss them the change.

But it turns out he actually means, “Would you like to donate about seventy cents to McDonald’s corporate PR effort, wherein some kids with cancer are helped?” Which is somewhat less compelling.

Besides, I try to keep my cancer-curing and cancer-getting distinct, to avoid increasing the already dangerous levels of irony I’m exposed to.