So what is up with McDonalds after midnight? I mean, the first time, it was funny. This time, well, it was still funny. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you -

Yes, I’d like fries with that (part deux)…

So I go to a drive-thru at a different McDonalds, but still in the same city as before.

Cashier: Thank you for choosing McDonalds how can I help you? (note: I didn’t put punctuation in there for a reason. She kept the same low, dull tone throughout the sentence. I know, I’m being nit-picky…)
Me: I’ll have (guess) a quarter pounder with cheese meal, no onion, coke to drink, and an apple pie.
Cashier: You want two for a dollar?
Me: Sure.

–waiting–

At this point, I’m hearing everything that’s going on in the place because she didn’t turn off her microphone. Among the things I hear are:

Where’s yo apple pie at??
Who got da *&#$^* apple pies?!?
That’ll be $5.15.
No, wait that aint his total, that’s hers up there.
$6.
Two quarters??

And I also heard something that sounded like the mic was eaten then regurgitated by some sort of wild animal, but real quick like.

So I’m still sitting in my car waiting for my total. And here’s what I get:

Different Cashier: Can I help you?
Me: Um, I was waiting for my total.
Cashier: What did you order?
Me: —pause— —repeated by order—
Cashier: Yeah, it ready. You can drive around to the window.
Me: But, I just… OK.

I drive around, and witness a few hobos in the parking lot trying to get a loyal McDonalds patron to give them money. I’m thinking to myself – Let me guess. You’re a Christian man, wouldn’t wanna take nobodys money, and just need gas to get to the liquor store-I mean your broken down car. But I digress….

The lovely (and by lovely, I mean incompetent) cashier tells me it’s $5.45. I hand her the money. She then repeats to me: $5.45. I just stare at her, knowing that I gave her the right amount. She looks at the money, and says “Oh, ok.” As if her reaching for the money, touching the money, and taking the money into her possesion hadn’t officially “sealed the deal” that she had the money.

I got my food, which was piping hot and tasty, but not before she handed me the bag and no drink and said “Have a nice day.” I asked for my drink, and this time I got “Have a pleasant night.”

As a side note, I was bothered by the late appearance of a man who looked like he should be on the front of National Geographic as a starving Ethiopian – though I feel pretty confident he was of Mexican descent. Skin and bones, folks. Looked like something we hung on our front door last Halloween. Apparently, employees don’t eat the food. Or maybe it’s the food that caused his malnourishment. Who knows.

So that’s it. As I drove off, I thought to myself – never again. But I know I’ll be back. I just can’t resist the DQPWCVMNOWCTD (it’s a lot easier as an acronym, don’t you think?).

See you in Charlotte.

-jon