McDonaldland:

You know the dingy McDonaldland that you never stop at because it looks like the place that induces burger rage? Yesterday was the day that I stopped in for breakfast. I was late and needed something to get me going so I pull into the crowded parking lot scraping my front bumper on the curb in so doing.

Not off to a good start.

Walking inside a young black boy (fifteen to eighteen) makes eye contact and makes a dash to park his ass in the line but stands about six feet away from the other patrons. He then begins to yell across the store for orders from the six people in his party. I quiz him, “Are you in line?” to which he mumbles a response of, “ uh huh.” No eye contact.

A young black man (eighteen to twenty-one) wearing a sly grin of beautiful teeth is behind the only operating register haphazardly pushing buttons and cussing at the machine. Taking his time and racking up a sizable line of hungry people some of which are turning around and leaving. I wonder why it’s the only register working.

Big black Cora is running the show in the drive-thru. Don’t mess with her, she is multitasking her fat ass off and she aint a happy woman. Six foot Olga is manning the greasy cookers sliding from one to another and barking orders to her pimply high school aged underlings.

A gorgeous expensively processed blond (thirty-eight but still working twenty-nine) wearing an expensive ensemble featuring three quarter pants, red purse and sling back shoes is the cashier’s latest victim.

She has a coupon.

LaQuita (obviously twenty-one) the beanpole Latina manager wearing a visor has to stop what she is doing and frustratedly key in said coupon. Blondie asks a question and receives the largest eye roll in history from LaQuita who animatedly stops again to re-key the mistaken item that she got wrong in the first place.

Line parking boy is next with six separate orders all to be paid for in pennies. Six hours later it is finally my turn.

My turn.

I step up to the mischievous boy when an angry man bursts in and yells at the top of his lungs, “I waited thirty fucking minutes for you to get my order wrong!” and then throws his bag of food across the counter and folds his arms across his chest with a lot of sheesh and My God being uttered.

LaQuita saunters over and sarcastically says with an attitude and cocked head, “What seems to be yo problem?”

Coupon Blondie receives her order and exits only to get into the most expensive black Hummer I have ever seen. Really? Coupons? That’s how you get a Hummer.

Anger management man gets what should have been my order and leaves with a swift snatch of his food off the counter and profanity under his embarrassed breath.

I get my order.

It’s cold! It’s hard! It’s my fault! I knew better than to stop here. I eat it anyway with no complaints from me, uh uh no way.

Line parking boy screams out for the whole place to hear, “Aww Hell Naw! Mother Fuckers…fucking Cold!” He takes his food and flings it at LaQuita. She answers with her standard, “What seems to be yo problem?”

New girl walks inside sweating from having emptied the dumpster and around the counter without washing her hands and exclaims, “I can hep the next person…if ya’ll don’t need a receipt.” What took her so long and really who needs a receipt from McDonalds? Don’t put it on your expense report. Just chalk it up to a bad experience.

As I leave two more rage filled angry drive-thru customers are coming inside with half opened food wrappers.

LaQuita looks ready for them.