My first job was at McDonald's on Randolph Street in the heart of busy downtown Chicago. With so many wonderful places to dine for lunch, it was a wonder so many people came to Mickey D's. Must've been the McRib.
During the job interview, Patricia, the manager, tilted her head to the side to get the Care-Free Curl tendril out of her eye. The meeting was 'informal' to say the least. Although I'm sure she'd been managing the joint for at least ten years, you'da thunk I was her first:
"So ummmm, are you Christian? You go to church?" Patricia asked.
Embarrassed, I replied "I'm a member. Definitely need to start going back."
Later on my mother informed me that it was inappropriate to ask religious beliefs in a job interview. I'd wondered if I'd told Patricia that I was an Atheist, instead... would I have still gotten the job.
I developed a fondness for McNuggets. So much so, that I'd pay the extra to upgrade my free 6-piece meal to a 9. Occasionally, one of my coworking snots would yell out "Oooooh, you stealin' nuggetttts".
Shut up... heifer.
The first time I served hot tea, no one had taught me about the styrofoam tea and coffee cups, so the customer's large tea went into a large, wax-coated, cold beverage cup. And yeah, I definitely depleted the entire supply... and no one stopped me. The lady tried not to laugh, as the paper cup was tempted to buckle as it melted from the mass of hot tea. I even gave her a straw... and 27 packets of Sweet-n-Low.
Connie made the salads. Each one pretty and looking like the other, and they were weighed and dated. She had a 3-year old daughter named Dorothy who often came by to visit. I like that her daughter's name didn't end in 'quita... or 'quanda. I could tell by the way she made the salads and named her daughter... that she was mo better than McDonald's. Maybe she liked it there. Wonder where she is now.
Eventually, I grew tired of being told that I was "too nice" to customers. It was concluded that 'being nice' was 'time consuming'. The star of the show was a girl who had gel'ed her 'baby' hair down on the sides with aloe vera, and talked so fast she averaged about 2 customers (greeting, feeding, dismissing) each minute. "Thankyouhaveaniceday" became a single word. THIS is who they wanted me to follow. A girl who, when drinking vinegar and throwing herself down a flight of stairs didn't terminate her situation... had, several months later, patiently ridden the El Train to the maternity ward when her water broke.
*cringe*
Strangely enough... Mickey D's days were some of my best. I made JUST enough to buy a bus pass to get to and from work. I just liked being there, in the middle of it all. Downtown Chicago... near the lake... near the restaurants... near everything fabliss and wannaful! Wait til you hear the story of my coworker "Camay" (that was her for-real name)... maybe one day. If I'm feelin' like it.
In the meantime... want some tea?
*clicking any 'Ads by Google' on this blog may afford a pigeon a french-fry*
1 comment:
Remind me to tell you about my first job at Kentucky Fried Chicken, when you could slide from the cash register down to the hot biscuits on the chicken grease.
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