Ineffectuality, Super-Sized®

I like fast food. I know it's bad for me, and the fast food companies exploit their workers, and the food is crap. I'm aware of all of this. But I can't deny it, I just like it. And I'm not just talking about the convenience and the fact that it's dirt cheap. I actually like the taste of it. I mean come on, burgers and fries?

Fast food joints are interesting, too, because you never know what kind of people you're going to see there. They're a great equalizer of sorts.

There is, however, one type of person you find at these places that drives me crazy- the people who treat the staff like shit.

Male fast food employee hater:

I am a very important person. I mean, look how expensive my watch is. And you know I have no tolerance or respect for people who make less money than I do. Obviously these idiots behind the counter never went to college, and even if they did it was probably a state school. And lord knows they weren't cool enough to have been in my fraternity, and so they definitely did not have access to my extensive network that allowed me to cheat my way through business school. Could they have gotten that copy of the Accounting final the morning before the exam, allowing them to get totally fucking hammered dude at the DMB concert the night before? Hardly. Hell, they probably don't even like DMB! And that's a shame, too, because these people appear to be ethnic, and the DMB is ethnic. I mean, they've got black people actually IN the band! But anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, these people don't seem to be able to speak English, either, which can only mean one thing: terrorist. That's it, I'm getting another 'W' sticker for my BMW. It's time we got rid of all of these people once and for all.

Female fast food hater:

First of all, do you know how hard it is to park a Hummer in one of these parking spaces? (sighs audibly) Can I have a Big Mac meal, super size, with a Diet Coke? Yes...that's...Diet...Coke! Jesus, can't any of you people speak English? (rolls eyes) Why are all these Mexicans so stupid? No, I'm not a racist. I just think that if you come to this country, you should be able to speak the language and get a good job. I have the same problem with my gardener and my maid. Oh and don't give me that shit that this is hard work. I cook for my family at least twice a week, and have you seen my rose garden? I appreciate a hard day's work.

I hate all of you. I hate you every time you shout at the poor woman behind the counter because you think that will make it easier for her to understand your language. I hate you every time you turn around, exasperated, and give me that sympathetic "Can you believe white people have to deal with this shit?" look. I'm crossing my fingers that the guys in the back are putting god knows what in your food.

You see, I've worked in fast food before. It sucks. It's demeaning and exhausting. It's hot as an oven in there, you get treated like a machine, and you make minimum wage. You burn yourself constantly, you sweat incessantly, and you're trapped in a polyester uniform that was designed by some asshole who has never set foot behind the counter. The people you wait on judge you simply by your respective positions at the counter, and no matter how fast you are or how hot the food is, the only time you will hear from them is when you fuck up an order.

So I am unfailingly polite to the staff at these joints. I am sympathetic to how hard their job is, and I know that the last thing they want to do is serve low-grade dogfood to my drunk ass at 3am. This is particularly true of the poor folks at the McDonald's at the corner of Lee and Glebe, which is miraculously open 24 hours. Needless to say that the latenight weekend staff is getting to know me.

There is one woman in particular who gets my deepest sympathies. A few weeks ago I pulled up to the window after the group of kids in front of me had just given her an especially difficult time. I seem to see her every weekend, and she gave me a smile of semi-recognition. She looked pretty depressed. I smiled back, made some small talk and apologized for the drunk kids (in Spanish, which appeared to delight her), and thanked her. It can be awkward in that kind of situation, because in the middle of the night it takes a while at the window because they often have to actually make the food. But hey, I was fine. I was drunk and chatting up the fast food lady, and my act was killing.

Fast forward a few weeks, to maybe two weeks ago, and I am at the same McDonald's but this time on a weeknight after work. It's maybe 7pm. I pull up to the window and it's the same lady. This time I get a big smile, a smile that, if we were in a bar, would say, "Wow! I didn't know you hang out here! It's so good to see you!" I smile back, nervous. What am I supposed to do? I so do not understand the etiquette in the situation. Thankfully the whole episode is mercifully short, because it's the dinner rush and I've got to get a move on. But after she takes my money and starts to hand me my food, she leans out the window and whispers to me, conspiratorially:

"I gave you some extra straws."

I am literally paralyzed. I've got a shit ton of self-loathing for my tendency to handle social situations in the least-cool way possible, but this one takes the cake. How the fuck are you supposed to respond to that? All I can do is smile and say, "Thank you" and drive away. Straws?! What the fuck is that all about? French fries I could understand. French fries says, "Next time, ask for my number." But straws?