McDonalds

Customer Services Contact Form

Dear Sir/Madam,

I have had a bad day today. Work’s driving me out of my mind due to dealing with idiots, so at 2pm I decided I had to get out of here for a break. This is where my troubles multiplied. You see I drove down to the Rowlandsway House McDonalds Drive-through for a burger. I know it doesnt sound troublesome, it shouldn’t be. Alas, no one had explained that theory to your Staff.

First of all I sit in my car for 10 minutes at the empty order window. The place is deserted, I’m not sure what to do and consider driving to the next window when out of the blue, what looks to be a member of the living dead  decides that maybe they should do their job for a minute and serve me. The young deathly looking chap mumbles some incoherent apology, takes my order for a 1/4pounder with Cheese, gives me my change and away I go (albeit without straw or napkin, or a will to live), to window 3.

At window 3 a rather excitable young lady directs me to Grill1 parking, I imagine it’s because my extraordinary burger isn’t ready. So there I sit, and unfortunately, there I stay. The time passes and it gets to the point where you know everything’s not quite right, about 15 mins I’d say. But I sit there, thinking how miserable my life is, and how this McDonalds experience kind of reflects it. 20 minutes go by, 25, 35 minutes. Sweet Lord, kill me now.

It’s at the 40 minute mark that I begin to study what’s going on inside the restaurant…nothing….there’s maybe 8 staff, 1 customer…. and me, me sat in a world of my own, a world that your employees cannot see, even though my world is only 15ft from them and my head’s now puce in anger and radiating like a beacon. After 55 minutes it strikes me that there’s 1 part to this idiots job, which is:

1. Serve me my food.

Nothing else, the undead fellow that was off with the fairies at Window 1 took my order and processed the money transaction. So the girl at Window 3 has 1 singular task to remember.

Yet she couldn’t even kick start her brain into doing that without cocking it up.

I gave in at the hour mark and drove out, leaving the chimp’s tea party in full swing. 8 staff staring into space, breathing through the mouth, and most probably trying to remember part 1, of the 1 part job they’re employed to do.

I don’t want any kind of refund, just want to share my day with you..and perhaps get all of the Rowlandsway House staff fired for being so completely useless.

Martin

I chose the wrong cashier. I could hear him from 4 people back, telling each customer he was serving that he hadn’t found the right man to love. To shout such things out in front of complete strangers …well it’s too open, it’s not the English way. You may not have found the right lover, but for God’s sake, is it really something you should be telling an old man that’s buying toilet rolls and grapes?

He carried on shouting about his sex life, at double speed, to each new person. It seemed to me that he got somekind of titillation out of forcing each person he served to listen to his sex stories . I got really anxious as I drew closer and closer to his horrible, chicken like arms and filthy whore mouth. The arms clawing each food item, scanning it and throwing it aside. Horrible fucking beast, I don’t want a conversation with you. I don’t want any part of your sexual dialogue.

And there I was, stood before him….”Do you want me to serve you slow, medium, or fast?” he asked. I accidentally looked at his crotch, my eyes lingered in panic. I looked up and he was looking into my eyes and smiling. “I’ll take it that’s a slow” he said. I said nothing. He then raped me with his words.