It’s been awhile since I’ve eaten at a McDonald’s, but it’s hard not to notice the commercials. They’ve changed. No longer do you see a smiling Ronald McDonald, Grimace and Cheeseburglar. It’s all about basketball, hip-hop tunes, and street slang. I’ve found this odd, as the I remember the McDonald’s locations of my youth. My mother and I would go there as a treat when my father was out of town, because he didn’t (still doesn’t) like McDonald’s.

McDonald’s has always held a special place in my heart, because it was where I could go to get a Happy Meal because it had that special toy I wanted… sometimes my mother would get a Happy Meal too, so I could get two toys (at least, that’s what she told me. I really think it was because she was tired of McDonald’s). As I grew up, it was where I went to get America’s Favorite French Fries, play Monopoly in hopes of winning the million dollars, or at least the Corvette. As a college student, McDonald’s became important with their dollar menu, as sometimes it was all I could afford.

But something happened along the way. McDonald’s became less important to me. Healthier (and better tasting) fast food alternatives lessened my visits to McDonald’s until a few years ago when I stopped going altogether. Why? Well, probably the main reason is my current employer doesn’t do business with McDonald’s, so the opportunity doesn’t present itself as well as it does with Wendy’s, KFC, Moe’s Southwest Grill, and the other guys.

But the other day on my way to the airport, I stopped by a McDonald’s to have some lunch. I’m saddened to say the magic is gone. I walked inside to place my order and noticed one thing right away: this place needed a good sweeping. There were fries all over the floor and no smiling faces at the cash register. As I waited politely for a few minutes for someone to come take my order, I looked around. I seemed to be the only customer over the age of 20 that wasn’t dressed like a goon in a rap video, and that included the employees!

Finally this large, large, large black woman came over to the register I was standing at and she said “Cenayetakeorda”, which I assumed was whatever language she spoke for “May I help you?” As I recounted my special order, she grew obviously impatient because it meant she had to press more keys on the cash register. When I was done, she kept pounding away at the register and finally looked up at me with a blank stare. I looked back at her, not knowing what to say next. Finally she rolled her eyes and said, “fuhdallaenateysebbencent”. I reached for my wallet, knowing she wanted cash, and I looked down at the register to see what my total was. Four dollars and eighty-seven cents.

I paid her and then watched her assemble my food in a takeout bag, even though I said my order was for here. And then when she had everything in my order, she turned around and stuck her arm out straight towards me, holding the bag. I took the bag from her and let her go on about her business. No “thank you”, no “have a nice day”, not even “here’s your food, now fuck off and die”.

Truly McDonald’s has disappointed me and that special place in my heart where so many warm feelings of being in “Ronald’s House” has soured. When your employees don’t know the basics of good customer service and can’t even speak English, you have a problem. But, then again, maybe I’m not the target audience anymore. I mean, the ads on TV don’t even show white adults and rarely show white kids. Maybe my dad had something after all…. McDonald’s isn’t for me.

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