I was in here again. Why I don’t know. Maybe the millions of McDonald’s punters could have explained it to me? Was there an addictive substance in the cheeseburgers I wondered as we sheepishly scoffed our late-night Big Macs alongside the shift-workers, pimps, piss-heads and druggies.

I gawked at a group of tracksuited chaverati huddled around the plastic tables; they looked like they had just committed an armed robbery or were planning their next one. There is always one of the group, an alert meerkat scanning the windows and doors for the rozzers or a rival gang. Of course the one that attracts the most attention is the one that breaks rank and throws his fries at his ex-girlfriend over on the next table.

I sometimes use the simile to describe promiscuous women as: “She was as dirty as a McDonald’s toilet” but tonight there was a young girl in there with a mop. I’m was sure it would be grim soon enough after cleaning but it will still be better than some of the floors of Burger King I’ve seen recently. Then I noticed an brown object on a bit of the floor she had yet to wipe. I’m wasn’t sure if it is solidified barbecue sauce, trodden-in gingerbread, or a flattened turd. I looked at the menu for conformation perhaps it was rogue patty out of a Tennessee Stack?

McDonalds, especially if you are on a budget or drunk, always seems like a good idea before you eat it and a very bad one afterwards. Invariably your toilet and botty will not thank you unless you’ve gone for the small bag of apple pieces. For me, a large milk shake makes my stomach bloat to the size of the O2 Arena in ten minutes flat. Well, not flat. And I could hold a series of U2 concerts in there and charge the punters £120 a ticket. Now there’s an idea….

Anyway I needed serviettes so I walked around the bored wan-faced Deliveroo drivers looking like they’d not been near a vitamin for months. I then dodged a group of Hoodies; whenever I see a gang of them I sing to the tune of the Goodies theme: ‘Hoodies. Hoody Hoody Scum Scum’. Only not too loud of course. I don’t want to a blade in my back before I tuck into my chicken nuggets.

Verdict: Before 5: After 1

Good: Cheap scoff

Bad: Gangs. Toilets. Your toilet when you get home.