Thursday, May 05, 2011

"They're fast food employees."

The news is reporting that 62,000 new McEmployees are going to work under the golden arches this week. I speculate that of those numbers, about half are non-English speaking, another quarter are teens or college-aged workers and the rest are a mix of out-of-work professionals and those whose sights aren’t set that high.

This morning, my wife returned home from work after early morning visits to two 24-hour, fast food drive-thrus. It was 5 AM and all she wanted was coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Apparently, that was too much to ask.

First, she ordered a McBreakfast with coffee, but was refused service because the geniuses there decided to clean all the coffee makers—both regular brewers and McCafe machine—at the same time. None of the bright McEmployees thought to have one brewed pot on a warmer elsewhere, or to maybe do one machine at a time. Short of that, they could’ve picked a better time than the beginning of the breakfast rush, like say 2 AM. Even the bars haven’t let out by then.

Secondly, she decided to hit the drive-thru at the next door Steak-N-Shake. Upon her attempt to order the same breakfast, she was told they don’t serve breakfast until 6 AM. They were happy to make her a burger topped with an egg, but NOT a breakfast sandwich with any other meat! Oh wait, you can also order a bacon burger, so there IS breakfast meat in the restaurant.

Sooo, they are open 24 hours, but breakfast starts promptly at 6. Okay. Where’s the logic in that? Do the chickens only wake up and begin producing the eggs at 6 AM in Steak-N-Shake’s storeroom? Apparently not. Eggs are available for burgers ONLY! No egg is to touch that hot grill for ANY OTHER sandwich!

The moral of this story?

Kids, do yourself a favor, and shoot a little higher. When I was a teen looking for employment, I was afforded the opportunity to get a McJob or to make pizzas at a national pizza chain. I chose the latter. But you can do better. Go wait tables, dig a ditch or intern at a professional office somewhere. Even ditch diggers get better direction and management from their supers.

When my wife came home and explained her adventures in drive-thru ordering, I simply replied, “Honey. They’re fast food employees.”

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