For you three people that haven’t yet experienced an incorrect order from McDonalds, I’m writing this as a ‘heads-up’ for how you will typically be shat on and subsequently flushed down the shitter by Mickey mother fucking Dees. Let’s start from the beginning.
Step one.
You drive to nearest McDonalds, praying to your version of god that a tard doesn’t answer the speaker. You place your order, diligently double checking the menu screen that it’s correct. You listen for them to read it back, all sounds good-exactly what you ordered. Pending further instruction, you head to the window.
Step two.
You watch the window person assemble your drinks, stuff food in your bag, and you head back home.
Step three.
This is when shit starts flowing out of McDonalds ass and onto your food. You didn’t get your apple pies. There was no bottom bun on your McChicken. You wanted sweet tea and got Shasta. You wanted tartar sauce but got nothing more than a colostomy bagload of vinegar. Congratulations you were just shat on by McDonalds.
Step four.
McDonalds has you right where they want you now. You are pissed. You drove all the hell the way back home and you are now not going to be as full as you had initially hoped. Son of a bitch.
Step five.
This is where you start spinning in a porcelain container and slowly building up momentum toward the flush. After you stuff your face full of their garbage, you spend the next 30 minutes laboring to find the complaint form on the McDonalds website. Your filling out the form and really sticking it to them. You’ll have your vengeance dammit. Actually no you won’t because this step is completely fruitless and is nothing but a waste of your time.
Step six.
Days have now gone by. You’ve probably still had McDonalds a few times since, but shit, you are still bitter about that ranch side salad dressing when you wanted honey mustard. This is when the shocker comes. Out of the blue, you receive an email. It reads something to the effect of…
“Dear so and so,
We are so sympathetic and sorry for your tragedy. Because our fine dining restaurants are independently owned and operated, we have forwarded your complaint to your locations operating manager. We sincerely hope this virtual faux B J soothes your pain.
Warmest and most best sincereness,
McDonalds automatic reply with built in algorythms that correctly gauge the tone of our reply to the tone of your original complaint.”
Step seven.
More days go by. No operating manager contacts you. You’ve easily had McDonalds three or four times since step six, but you steadfastly refuse to order another apple pie again. All the sudden, a 2nd email arrives. Holy shitcake, could it be the operating manager of my local restraunt? Oh hell no, another automated fuck reply (for real an automated reply this time).
“Dear dickhead,
Thank you for your recent feedback to McDonalds. We ask that you please take a moment to fill out our survey, to better let us know how we did. Again, we deeply, all the way to the bottom of your colon, appreciate you taking time out of your losery ass day trying to weasel a free Big Mac out of us.
Kindest sympathies and wet ba da ba ba bah dreams,
McQualiteam (or some really lame shit)”
Step eight.
You go to delete this stupid ass email immediately… but part of you wonders, ‘does this survey allow me to speak my mind again?’. You blindingly take the ridiculously long survey. You are amused by some of the questions. You take comfort knowing that others have too experienced your pain. You reach the end of the survey. It crashes your browser, and you never got your chance to speak your mind… not even give your name.
Step nine.
You blog about the shittiness of McDonalds just to give yourself some sense of vindication and peace of mind. It changes nothing, but it kind of makes you feel a little bit better about yourself.
Step ten.
You go back to McDonalds.