I've linked The Daily Dump, but I felt the need to share this particularly hilarious story. Doesn't it sound like something that would happen in Baltimore?
While doing our classic “hung-over brunch / aimlessly wander around town buying things we don’t need to do our part in fostering consumerism in America” thing this past Sunday, The Girlfriend and I found ourselves outside a McDonald’s on 57th St. Normally we wouldn’t even think about going inside, because while I’ll gladly eat their food when I’m on a road trip and it’s the only restaurant for miles, I’m far too judgmental and swayed by popular opinion to eat it under normal circumstances. But this time, The Girlfriend saw a sign in the window for Premium Iced Coffee. And seeing as how she had only ingested about 24 ounces of coffee thus far, and you know it being “premium” and all, she had to get one.
We walk inside and there are four registers open, all with lines eight people deep. We eye one another and know what to do: we each pick a different line and take our place at the end. In my estimation this is one of the most valuable parts of being in a long-term relationship – being able to stand on different lines and the person who gets to the head of the line first (or the “winner”) being joined by the other person (the “loser”) to complete the transaction. In new relationships you can’t possibly get away with this because, obviously, if the two of you are together you MUST be engaged in some sort of conversation or physical contact. Luckily, with “love” comes “convenience,” except when that “love” turns to “boiling hatred and resentment,” in which case the ensuing heartbreak and loneliness, which is often too much to bear, can be decidedly “inconvenient.” (Good luck, kids!)
Just before I get to the head of the line first (winner), I motion to The Girlfriend (the loser) to a sign plastered above the registers. It reads:
SMILE GUARANTEE
If we do not SMILE before you pay,
you get a FREE Small French Fry or Hash Brown.
PLEASE PLAY! . . . TRY TO CATCH US!
I have noticed that up to this point several customers in front of me have been complaining about their orders and stomped away huffing with indignation, which was confusing because we’re in a McDonald’s and everyone knows there’s no dignity within the walls of a McDonald’s. Moreover, none of these customers received a smile nor did they subsequently demand a small order of French fries for the transgression. In any event, I knew that my order would be easy. I approach the register and confidently say, “One large iced coffee,” in a tone that suggests, “You’re welcome for giving you such an easy order. We can all use a break sometimes.”
What transpires in beyond ludicrous. I’ve decided to formulate a multiple choice quiz to let you, the reader, guess what did or did not happen. Here we go:
After I say, “One large iced coffee,” the middle-aged woman behind the counter:
a) fills a large cup with iced coffee.
b) does nothing.
c) tells me to drink my coffee hot, like a man.
d) licks the palm of her hand and fixes her hair.
Answer: b. She stares past me, as though contemplating the enormity of the outside world, or trying to remember the next line in that Shakira song.
When she asks me for my order again, and I again tell her “One large iced coffee,” she:
a) fills a large cup with iced coffee.
b) gets me a hamburger and fries.
c) begins filling a cup with banana syrup.
d) says, “Oh, that’s right. Shakira, Shakira . . .”
Answer: c. The Girlfriend and I watch, confused, as she combines banana syrup and coffee with no ice. As she brings it back to us, The Girlfriend says, “We actually didn’t want any syrup in it. Just iced coffee. A large, iced coffee,” deliberately separating the adjectives to perhaps explain what we wanted in a different way, that it was a coffee that is both large and iced.
After another employee comes over to help sort out the order on the computer screen (?) the original cashier:
a) fills a large cup with iced coffee.
b) quits on the spot.
c) walks to the work station and pours the banana coffee from one large cup to another.
d) offers me an apple pie.
Answer: c. We again watch dumbfounded as she pours the concoction from one cup to another and begins adding ice. We say, almost in unison, “What the . . .?” I shout over the counter, “No, we didn’t want the banana coffee. Whichever cup it’s in.”
At this point, the woman:
a) finally understands and fills a large cup with iced coffee.
b) says, “But bananas are good for you,” and takes a sip of the coffee.
c) short-circuits and breaks down, revealing that she is actually a robot.
d) tries to convince me that what she is holding is not, in fact, the same banana coffee.
Answer: d. I explain that I watched her, from 10 feet away, pour the drink from one cup to another. Again, another employee comes over and asks what the problem is. I ask the new employee if they could please get our large iced coffee for us.
The new employee then:
a) fills a large cup with iced coffee.
b) explains to me that that’s not how McDonald’s works.
c) says, “I’m sorry, she’s new here.”
d) says, “And by ‘here’ I mean ‘the world.’”
Answer: a. Three cheers for employee #2! She places the iced coffee on the counter in front of us and The Girlfriend asks if it is sweetened. Employee #2 answers, “If I didn’t put any sugar in then it is not sweetened.” Cryptic. The Girlfriend then asks if they have Splenda.
Employee #2:
a) says “yes” and gets some Splenda.
b) says “yes” and does nothing.
c) says “no” and does nothing.
d) says “I can’t believe it’s taken us 10 minutes to get you an iced coffee.”
Answer: b. Employee #2 stood there motionless as though she were hypnotized and we had failed to register the correct trigger word. After a solid ten seconds, The Girlfriend says, “Can I have some?”
What happens next is:
a) Employee #2 again says “yes” and does nothing.
b) Employee #2 says “no.”
c) Employee #2 is suddenly inflicted with the miraculous stigmata.
d) A unicorn flies through the open door and places a large iced coffee at the feet of The Girlfriend.
Answer: a. It’s like talking to a coat rack in a McDonald’s uniform. Finally, after another ten seconds of emotionless, vacant staring, Employee #2 says, “How many?” The Girlfriend says, “Two,” and as Employee #2 hands over the packets she says, “I thought you wanted the whole box!”
The Girlfriend and I glance around and slowly back away from the counter. I have Century 21 flashbacks. We hurry over to leave and as The Girlfriend raises the drink to her mouth I notice out of the corner of my eye that she has suddenly stopped with the drink inches from her face.
I glance over wide eyed at:
a) a hamburger floating in the iced coffee.
b) a tongue depressor sticking out of the top of the iced coffee.
c) “HELP ME” written in blood on the side of the cup.
d) The Girlfriend, because she is beautiful.
Answer: b. I didn’t even know McDonald’s had tongue depressors, besides the fact that I’m pretty sure tongue depressors have been obsolete for decades, except for building replica log cabins.
As we exit the McDonald’s and The Girlfriend enjoys her hard fought iced coffee I can only think one thing: What the hell would have happened had I enforced the Smile Guarantee? Because I can assure you that at no time in the 10 minute long interpretive drama we enacted was there ever a smile or even the suggestion that a smile was possible. The thing is, I know that I could never be the guy who, after he was handed his change, said, “Gotcha! You never smiled! I’ll take, hmm, fries or hash browns, fries or hash browns . . . I’ll take the fries. This is awesome, I thought at the end there you were going to smile and I was going to lose it, but then you were like ‘Here’s your change,’ with a straight face and I was like, ‘Yes!’” Maybe if I was drunk, or if someone removed the gland that regulates my response to emotion, but never during the ordinary course of events could I tell a MCDONALD’S EMPLOYEE that because they didn’t smile while serving her 75th Big Mac of the day that I was cashing in on their despair.
HOWEVER, I have to say that on Sunday, June 18th, I toed the line of being the kind of guy who could do that. Maybe it was situation specific, maybe I’ve been wrong and mimosas really do have alcohol in them. Whatever it was, I almost demanded a free small French fries from a deadpan woman who could not even fill a large cup with iced coffee. And I’m not proud of that, but at the same time I understand that a higher intuition was in play when I walked away from the situation.
Because I’m pretty sure if I had stood there and tried to explain the Smile Guarantee to that woman, I would:
a) be on the lam for murder.
b) still be there, correcting them when they hand me a container filled with ketchup.
c) still be there, sitting in a circle on the floor with the employees reading a children’s book to them.
d) wake up in a mental institution muttering over and over, “Why couldn’t she just smile?”
