Menstrual Mondays – It’s really not that difficult
There’s a fantastic scene from the movie “Falling Down” that’s been locked away in my head since seeing it in my early childhood (that probably explains a few things actually).
William Foster (played by Michael Douglas) has gone totally off the deep end, winds up with a bag full of automatic weapons after a drive-by shooting attempt goes wrong, and decides to walk into “Whammy Burger” for breakfast after a rather psychotic morning. However after waiting in line he’s told that the breakfast menu finished 3 minutes before, and he will have to order from the lunch menu. Understandably upset by this turn of events, Foster proceeds to pull out an uzi and blow holes in the ceiling. After eventually deciding to go with the lunch menu anyway, he’s then enraged further to find the burger looks nothing like the one advertised on the menu boards.
Fast Track to Monday night: I’ve gone to a monthly stand-up comp, and been voted off within seconds of getting onstage. Partly because I was first up and the crowd was still cold, and partly because I walked onstage with a bible in hand hoping to read a verse where kids make fun of a bald guy, bald guy curses the kids in the lord’s name, and then BEARS maul 42 of them… this is also right after the MC had finished telling the audience how he was a pastor at a public school.
Once off stage though I found the kitchen was already closed, so I couldn’t get any dinner and instead had to sit through other people getting laughs for much weaker jokes than mine with an angry, empty stomach. Night finishes, I say my goodbyes and bolt deciding to get McDonalds on the way home to ease the pain. The nearest 24hr McD’s is miles out of my way, but I know it’ll be a treat worth the effort.
It’s not until I pull up at the drive-through speaker box though that I realise just which McDonalds I’m ordering from. This is the Maccas near the Leach highway and North Lake Road intersection – the same store that after 5 visits in the last 12 months is yet to actually serve me the food I order. Knowing this, I check through the speaker box that yes, it is a double quarter-pounder and a medium coffee thickshake. At the register window I check again, only to discover I’ve been misheard – the drive-thru lady says “Ohhh, you want the thick one!” and fixes the order. I drive forward to the pick-up window, gleefully take the bag with the Double Quarter pounder, turn back to the window for the drink and what is the window-bitch trying to pass me?
At what point does the confusion between this and a coffee shake begin?
If I were William Foster, I would have shot window-bitch in the face. Instead, I’m left trying to work out whether,
- The speaker box is broken AND the store has an “immigrant only” policy for employees on Drive-Thru
- The manager refuses to stock coffee flavouring after an unfortunate incident involving a casual employee, four bags of flavouring, casual employee’s penis and the McFlurry making machine
- It’s a special McDonald’s that prefers to focus it’s efforts away from customer satisfaction, and more toward serving the Dark Lord; or
- They really hate ginger kids.
Quite honestly, all are very legitimate options.
1. The “Immigrant Only” Policy
I don’t want to sound racist, but I will anyway – why in the name of Zeus and Judas would you put people, who’s shoes are still wet from the Indonesian fishing boat they just stepped off, in the Drive-Thru booth? And the craziest part is whenever I get up to the window where I get my food, window-bitch is always some skinny white boy who speaks better English than I do. Giving everyone a fair chance I can understand, but every fucking time I go there the ordering is handled by someone who only just learnt how to pronounce “Happy Meal”. There is no doubt their English is much better than my Pashtun, but then again I’m not taking orders for Chicken McNuggets in sunny downtown Kandahar, am I?
2. No Coffee Flavouring
Have you ever seen the McFlurry machine in action? Have you ever gotten an unmixed dollop of pure coffee flavouring in your shake (my parents finally managed to pry my off the ceiling 3 days later, when it finally started to come out of my system)? And ever wondered how someone could be such a waste of oxygen that they only get offered casual work at McDonalds?
I suspect a combination of all three would result in-
- The casual employee losing the ability to effectively contribute to the gene pool, because his junk now resembles one of those “crazy straws”, and
- The manager realising pure coffee flavouring is like the “One true ring”, with far too much power contained inside each of the bags of brown liquidy death.
Girl’s love girth, but not when it’s girth fromhaving your junk tied into a pink Gordian knot
3. Fuck Customer Service, appease the Dark Lord
You may smirk at this, but it’s only among Satan-worshippers and John Farnham fans have I ever witnessed the level of contempt I got from the manager and window-bitch. Maybe it was the look of absolute disgust on my face, maybe it was the inflection in my voice when I politely asked “What the fuck is this?” when window-bitch tried to hand me the frozen raspberry fanta. I’m not sure, but something I did obviously offended this pair of bottom-feeders when I explained I’d ordered a coffee shake and not a raspberry-flavoured polar bear’s period.
Plus the look of utter disdain from the manager was priceless; like I’d molested her dog and made her watch. OH! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I needed to establish some sort of long-term relationship with you and your store (where I tolerate your managerial short-comings and staff incompetence) before you decide I’ve EARNT THE RIGHT TO BE SERVED THE HALF COOKED, HALF PREPARED SHITPILE YOU CALL FOOD THAT I’VE ALREADY PAID FOR.
4. They really hate ginger kids
This basically feeds off #3, but I’m pretty sure the manager’s hate was amplified just a fraction by the fact that it was some shaven-headed ranga that was telling her how incompetent her staff were, and how ordering a coffee shake from Drive-Thru shouldn’t be harder than re-taking Pointe du Hoc. It’s not like they made a mistake in the heat of the moment, placed the wrong order while they were inundated with customers and were sorry about it – it’s was 11:30 at night and I was the only one there. It might be too early to call, I’m sure that while they weren’t rushed at the counter, they were definitely rushed out of the womb.
In the end the manager was that flustered and confused by what was going on, she grabbed the medium thickshake that was on the counter and practically threw it at me, then slammed the window shut. I was that pissed off and hungry I just drove away, so desperate to finally eat I nearly spilt my thickshake all over myself in the process…
… a CHOCOLATE thickshake.
When the monkey apocalypse comes, I will tell the monkeys your store has startedselling fucking bananas as part of your “Healthy Choices” menu, you pond scum.
Humanity – Can’t live with it, can’t sped the spider monkey uprising any faster
There are 4 Comments to "Menstrual Mondays – It’s really not that difficult"
Not being a naysayer… but you weren’t being one of these people ordering something not on the menu board? That coffee thickshake you had was actually a limited run back in 1998? lol just curious
‘Girls like girth…” Pure Gold!
Is it off? I haven’t looked for years – I tried ordering one of the new chicken burgers at the same place awhile back, but it was easier to order a 1/4 pounder than it was to pronounce this chicken bs.
I’ve never had any issues ordering a coffee shake anywhere else, just this ONE store
[...] like to thank all the people out there that have helped inspire me to start this – all the oxygen-stealing, mouth-breathing pond-scum that fuel the fires of my unmitigated spite every day I walk this doomed [...]
[...] Fuck you, Dome Coffee at Southlands Shopping Centre. It’s ice, caramel and coffee – what’s so fucking hard about it). You could say it was the dipshit at the ticket counter smirking at me and then putting my credit [...]