Working At McDonalds

Everyone has to start somewhere.

I started as a cashier...

At McDonalds.

I firmly believe that all these ungrateful, punk-ass kids nowadays... Should have mandatory shitty-fast-food-restaurant duty.

Not only does it build character, getting yelled at by a fat lady with 8.25 kids. She also came with enough auxiliary storage under her stomach-flaps to store:

...Exactly $12,450.89 in spare change.

...Five McDoubles with: no cheese, no onion, Mac sauce, extra salt, extra pickle, no mustard, a shit-ton ketchup, ranch, dijon mustard and two packets of mayonnaise on the side.

"And that's just for one sandwich, for the second one, I want..."

Hang on lady.

Let me hang myself with this tie, first.

Not only do you get that. But you also get to experience what real life is.

Outside of fucking Maple Story and RuneScape.

And does it suck.

I had a manager, her name was Betty. She was the female-equivalent to your slightly drugged out friend... Who is stuck in a perpetual state of almost fucking up their life. One-step away from jail, or even better!

Having lived 27 years, on this beautifully shitty planet. I've come to learn that there are two kinds of people... And only two. Those who succeed, and those who will never succeed.

Like seriously, there are people who are stuck in the cycle of pushing that RED button.

They know what the button does, and it is not good. Yet they are compelled to keep on pressing it, instead of the BLUE one.

The blue one is mysterious, unknown, and therefore... Scary. Bitches got zapped so many times, they all learned to like it.

Betty is one of those.

I don't remember how old she was, probably late 20's.

I was 16, or so. Shy, nerdy, and still virgin.

It's funny how people change over time.

Anyways, Betty had a little daughter who would come around every now and then.

The little Betty Jr. was standing there crying next to me, one day. So I was thinking, why not say something to calm the thing down.

"Don't worry, mommy is busy. She will be there soon."

And from across the room, I hear Betty yell,

"Don't you talk to my daughter! Leave her alone!"


"I was, uh, trying to help."

"I don't need your help with MY daughter."

Okay then.

Guess I was too pedophile.

Looking back, I almost could not believe how beta I was.

I cowered back behind my cash register and kept on trucking. Said nothing the rest of the day.

Betty had a nice ass, though. I'd like to plow that ass, and teach her a lesson or two about respect.

She should be late 30's by now. I wonder how she looks like...

There were some cute girls there, that was like the only thing that made it worth coming back to work.

And the Mexican people working in the back, made it fun too. I had a uncle and a aunt, they were like my McDonalds family.

My tio and tia would jump in to help fix my fuck ups, every so often. Great people! I could not have asked for more.

I saw two of them working at a different McDonalds, a while back. I wonder what happened to my tio.

Then there was Stephanie, my first love. My very first attempts at getting pussy! My very fucking awkward first attempts.

If only I had known, what I know now. 


Last I saw, she married some preppy asshole. And she's a yacht saleswoman now, which is also an interesting turn of events.

I kind of miss coming home from work, covered in a fine layer of grease. There is nothing quite like coming home after a long day, smelling like you just jumped out a barrel of grease as old as you are.

But the free food was nice. And you bet I took advantage of that shit, I probably cost McDonalds thousands (or mostly likely, just hundreds) in my time there

There are specific rules about everything. From the number of swirls that can be on a cone, to the number of sauces you can toss at customers.

And you can fucking bet, I made those cones as big as fucking possible, and then made it rain sauce cups.

"You want some extra sauce for your Chicken Selects? Here is 8 more, it's on me."

What are they gonna do? Fire me? LOL

I make nearly ten times the money, I made at McDonalds. So it is no loss to me, not even a little. 

Let's talk about the customers. 

Yes, the people who made your day so, so, so much fun. Not really...

The black folks were the best. They were the most chill, even when I fucked up. Which is surprising.

...It's almost like, they get it.

The whiter crowd, was hit and miss. Some were absolutely great and understanding. And some acted like they were in a fucking 10-star restaurant...

Plenty of people cried to the head-hacho, because I did not drop everything to get their fat asses fed first.

"Yeah, let me just ignore the 30 people ahead of you, and get your fucking shit first. Thank you for allowing me to personally serve you, at McDonalds."

Or sometimes, they realized an order was wrong, but only after eating nearly the entire burger... But they still want a refund. Just cause.

The Asian people, were the worse. They got angry at the slightest provocation.

And I'm Asian too, so I thought, maybe... I'd get a break. But no... It's zero fucking chill. As soon as I put on that uniform, I am the enemy.

So there.

Great times to be had, I recommend you all apply!


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