My McDonald Meltdown

Yesterday, on my way home from school, I did what no person should ever do. I stepped into a McDonalds restaurant, and actually purchased something. In a desperate attempt to earn some extra credit points, I decided to try in this “experimental” assignment. I went to the local McDonalds near my house in Forest Hills, Queens, hoping that it would not be too busy. Luckily, there seemed to be enough servers with time to spare, so I felt less guilty about what I was about to do. I spent 30 seconds comparing the 3 different cashiers, trying to figure out which would be most accommodating. I may have picked wrong.

Deyandra was her name (or so her nametag claimed) and together, we would experience what may have been the most awkward 15 minutes of my week. When I first stepped up to the register, she smiled politely and waited for my order. I said I needed a junior cheeseburger and small fries, both from the dollar menu, but needed there to be exactly 4 pickles and no extra salt on the fries which needed to be well done. I said this needs to be on the receipt. That it is “crucial” that she put this on the receipt. She simply replied with an “ok” and gave me a strange look, but as she typed it in, she told me that she would tell them to put 4 pickles on, since she could only mark “extra pickle” on the receipt. I told her I absolutely had to have some proof of FOUR pickles ON my receipt, and told her that “extra pickle” four times would be good enough. She told me that the only way she could do this was by adding 4 junior cheeseburgers on the receipt too…which I would be charged for. I asked if she was sure (from my experience with modern registers, it should have been doable). Clearly annoyed, she nodded. She then took her pen out and wrote “(4)” on the receipt, which encouragingly did have “no salt” printed on it. But not “well done”. This could have been the end of it, but no, I had to push further.

I asked her to have the manager sign this, to approve what she had written on my receipt. This is when Deyandra’s true colours showed. It was clear she was no longer in a good mood. Whatever game I was playing, she wasn’t enjoying it one bit. She walked to the back, and stopped to talk to a coworker. Though she had her back to me, from her coworker’s reaction, it was clear she hadn’t been saying nice things about that OCD nutcase customer who was so obsessed with a receipt. She then went further back to a place where I could no longer see her. On her way, she had called out to one of the chefs that the junior cheeseburger with “extra pickle” needed four pickles exactly. I heard a laugh among two of the chefs. When she came back, I was shocked to find out that she had not simply asked the manager to sign it like I had requested, but had asked the manager to come deal with me himself.

Carlos, the manager, was much more pleasant to deal with. He asked what the problem was; and I explained the whole thing again. With my face already dark red with embarrassment, I said that it was really crucial that this appear on the receipt, exactly as I’ve requested. He explained that the receipt could not be altered, and that it would cost extra. I didn’t understand if he was referring to getting a new receipt, getting the extra pickles (I mean how expensive could a pickle possibly be?), or if I had to order it all over again. I said I could pay whatever he needed (Its easy to the big spender when the most it could cost was an extra $2.17). At that point he told me I would indeed have to order the whole thing again, which I said I would gladly do. He then typed it in to the register himself, and did in fact manage to put “extra pickle” four times, like I had suspected was possible all along. When I reminded him that the fries had to be well done he explained that the fries could not be “well done” because the whole batch was cooked together, and this could ruin the fries for the other customers, but he assured me that their fries are always cooked long enough to be “crispy and delicious”. On the receipt that he gave me, there was no mention of any details concerning the fries.

At this point I could not bring myself to place the same order a third time. I was hurriedly given my two orders, and only saw further agitation when I asked for extra BBQ sauce. I took my orders home, and received an excited welcome from my hungry younger brother, who told me that he finally appreciated my “school work”.