Okay, so it’s been a long, long, long, time since I do one of these blogs…but sometimes you just gotta do, what ya gotta do. And this week has me pondering many things as usual…some just happen to stand out more than others.
*I’m lovin’ it*
Let’s start with customer service or in most cases, lack thereof. Isn’t that usually a fun issue anyway? I thought so. SO-OH, my kids and I were leaving the Renaissance Festival on Sunday afternoon. It was a miserably hot day and the location although outside, had absolutely no airflow and very little shade. Not to mention that it was on lot that was mostly dirt…or because it’s Florida, sand…But not the nice, soft white beach sand (for those of you not familiar with the Florida terrain) no it was that ugly gray sand that sticks to everything and makes you feel like you’re gonna choke. Needless to say, we left early carrying out the 32 oz. $3.50 cent soda with not enough ice (because I think they were on rations) and proceeded to get into my equally hot, non air-conditioned but paid off so I’m not complaining, car and started towards my mom’s house where we could get into the cool clean pool water and enjoy the drink or our choice with as much ice as we liked.
We got out of the dirt/sand ridden parking lot and onto the road. The vestiges of the afternoon sticking to our skin making us feel grungy. As I drove toward the road home, I glanced back at my little one who was unsuccessfully trying to tap the last of the ice out of the bottom of the cup (I hate it when that happens). Her flushed little face with the stray strands of hair sticking to her forehead was more than I could take. There is no way we could wait to get to grandma’s house for that cool pool and even cooler drink. I made a quick right turn into McDonald’s. Ugh. Fast food is not my favorite. The fact that it is called fast food should be enough to make anyone want to run for the border (no pun intended…okay maybe a little pun was intended).
But I digress. And the greatest of all the fast food evils (in my humble opinion) is McDonald’s. Against my better judgment, I pulled into the drive-thru. I glanced back at my children whose little faces lit up like Christmas morning. See, they depend on us completely to guide them through life and teach them the value of things and how to make good choices in every aspect. That fact has not prevented my kids, no matter how much I yammer on about how bad fast food is for you, from thinking that McDonald’s is the bees knees. Ugh.
Once again against my better judgment and because they both just looked so pitiful, I asked them what they wanted and proceeded to order, completing my order with a large diet coke, extra ice in a styrofoam iced tea cup for myself please. (Yes, I know that the styrofoam cup is bad for the environment, but having the ice melt too quickly is bad for my diet coke…) I payed and pulled up to the second window. (Remember when there was only one window? When one person could handle that whole job by herself and the orders were usually right?) The young woman behind the glass, wearing a blank look and chewing gum, without saying a word, handed me a bag in a rather perfunctory manner. Soon another bag found its way into the car, followed by a soda and a chocolate milk. But no large diet in an iced tea cup…yet. I sat waiting while blank look girl chatted with another employee regarding something that was going on in the store that had nothing to do with me or my diet coke. After a (really long time) few seconds passed, blank look girl looked at me blankly again to which my response was “Oh I’m just waiting on my diet coke…” Her blank look very rapidly morphed into a look of disgusted displeasure at my audacity. “I know. I’M getting it.” she retorted. (Seriously, Is somebody kidding me?)
Moving at a glacial pace, she proceeded to make my drink, which translates to, she put ice in the cup and put the cup under the soda dispenser and pushed a button. Soon after (a million years later) the cup found it’s way into my car completing the order. Except it was not what I’d asked for. Since blank look girl turned her back to me immediately upon handing me the drink: I patiently (impatiently) waited to get her attention while she continued former conversation about store stuff not having to do with me or my order.
Both women turned towards the window upon concluding their conversation and with a puzzled expression blank look girl said “Whatchoo need baby?”
Me- Oh, well I’m sorry, this isn’t what I asked for. Why was I apologizing?? I asked for a large drink in an iced tea cup with extra ice. But this cup is not the styrofoam iced tea cup….
She- Well you said a large drink and that’s a large drink. The iced tea cups are extra large.
I think something happens to a person when they get into drive thru situations…or at least something happens to me…because I sat there for what seems an eternity trying to decide whether getting the styrofoam cup would be worth the certain hurdles I was going to have jump over in order to obtain it…transforming my once confident and self assured expression into that of a seemingly lack witted…well McDonald’s employee. I decided that the argument was not worth it, sighed and merely pulled forward…seething…just a little bit, but putting the experience out of my mind and proceeding to enjoy my day.
Until yesterday… Yesterday (all my troubles seemed so far away…) a co-worker came in from her lunch break complaining about a McDonald’s experience which led me to re-cap my own experience. To which my co-worker shook her head in a ‘yeah I know exactly what you’re talking about because that’s happened to me’ manner and added “But you just gotta remind yourself that they’re minimum wage employees…”
Yeah, you’re right I nodded and walked away…but…no wait…NO! You’re not right. Who cares how much money they get paid per hour??? It isn’t as though the McDonald’s corporation lied to them about their wages. They knew what they would be getting paid per hour when they accepted the positions. Not to mention that they are not being forced to work there…not being held at gunpoint. Therefore they should do the job they are being paid for, which is to provide the experience McDonald’s promises. I on the other hand was lied to. McDonald’s clearly wants me to believe that my experiences there will be such that I will leave singing “Ba duh, buh, buh, buh…I’m lovin’ it!” But that NEVER happens! Ever.
*Tattooed eyebrows*
I don’t even know where to begin here. Except to say that it is a phenomenon I do not understand. Unless your eyebrows have been lost to something beyond your control….Ladies, just say no. And that’s all I have to say about that.
And that’s all for now! Ciao! Hast la pasta baby!
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