Life Lesson at McDonald's

Can I find some meaning even here in a McDonald's? Miniature dramas play out at each table, two small children touch hands between tables, reaching over barriers of color, age and fear of the unknown. Someone makes room for a stranger in an aisle. Eyes meet from across the room, oldie-goldie music plays from the speakers. A woman explains to a man sitting across from her that the fact that they are eating here proves that they are still young - old people don't eat at McDonald's. The woman is white, the man is black.
An 18-month-old child is already eating the foods that may render her obese in her twenties. A young mother slaps her two-year-old for crying. A man curses, then catches himself, then curses again. A young man philisophically ponders what to get from the menu, perhaps his most important decision today.
A boy tells his mother about school Cell phones beedle, children yelp. This is life. This is meaning. There is meaning everywhere, all around me.
Even in McDonald's.