
True Story (I couldn't make this shit up if I wanted to).
I'm in the car last night with my pseudo and he decides that he wants some late night MickyD's, I don't object because it's close to our destination and I knew he was hungry. It's already about 12:25am as we pull into the drive-thru and this is the exact moment where shit got real!
He pulls behind some lady who appears to be getting out of the driver's seat and getting in the back seat, moments later is appears that she was getting her wallet from under her seat. Once the wallet was retrieved, she began her order. The question then arose from inside of our vehicle, "How come she couldn't order before looking for her wallet?" It puzzled us, but nonetheless she ordered and pulled around to the side.
We the pull to the speaker and Chris makes his order, "A medium Number 5, with no sauce and a High-C Orange." The lady gives him his total and we pull around to the first window. Money is exchanged, change is given and we pull up to the next window. HERE IS WHERE SHIT REALLY GETS REAL.
Only in North Philly will you find a two-toned, finger wave helmet glued to the top of some chicks head and perfectly edged up around her "would-be" hairline. I immediately wonder what has gone so wrong in someone's life that they have to work the midnight shift at McDonalds? But I chalk that up to oppression and gentrification (which we all love so much) and just keep it moving. BUT as she begins to hand Chris his food, I abruptly enlighten him that that is not his food.
Now had we had been actual 'negros', we would have taken the bag full of food and acted as if he didn't just pay $5 for a chicken select sandwich, a quarter pounder with cheese, two large fries, and two Sprites! However, we're uppity negros and we felt it was best to acknowledge that he had the wrong food, give it back to her, and request the actual order that he had paid for. As we tell her that this is not his order, she looks as if we had lied to her! Like we were purposely trying to mess with her; NO CHICK, IT'S JUST NOT HIS DAMN ORDER. But whatever, she gives us the mean-mug and then retires somewhere beyond the glass of the drive-thru window.
Getting a good laugh out of her order screw up at 12:46 in the morning, a guy in a McDonalds button up and a headset approaches the window and asks, "is there a problem here?" Chris says, "No. She just gave me the wrong order. I didn't order a quarter pounder." The alleged manager walks away and doesn't return. This also makes us chuckle because, what was his purpose? What did he think was going on? It's McDonalds at midnight, what did he expect? Ultimately, the chick with the helmet returns to the window with an acceptable size bag and a High-C orange.
BUT WAIT, IT DOESN'T END THERE. After that 20 minute Philly fuckery, we get back to the beautiful crib on 17th & Edgely only to realize that she had STILL given him the wrong order! Needless to say, I believe that there should be some kind of competency test for these drive-thru attendants. When the tickets comes up and it literally reads off to you everything that the customer has ordered, how do you still mess that up? My conclusion: Fear the people who work the midnight shift at McDonalds, they're there for a reason!
Happy Thursday Chumps (stole that one from
Doodle)