A Series of My Days at McDanks or; Why Anxiety and McD's Don't Mix
So Iâm one of the lucky ones who escaped fairly quickly, but I also had the first 6 out of 7 months at McDâs with a super corrupt set of higher ups. Including 6 âManagersâ (Team leads that our manager game manager uniforms to) that acted as though they made all the rules. The only okay higher up was the Assistant Manager.
Let me share you my *favorite* moments.
A 'managerâ who spent all of Eurovision in the back watching it- including when we had a skeleton team of 5 with 2 being less than a month on staff and a freaking hour long rush in the dead of night. One of those two showed up to her shift stoned and did nothing but check her phone.
Getting told to move from drinks to cash to fries to lobby to running and then back to drinks within a minute, before getting screamed at for 5 minutes that the drinks werenât ready yet.
Getting told to stay on fries (And not even allowed to grab a drink) after a) Blacking out for a moment (Thank god a cook caught me) and b) getting a nose bleed that was going so hard it was dripping down my arms.
Helping what I thought was a customer connect to the internet, and then being written up for using my phone (Turns out they were a new co-worker I hadnât met yet and they were not in uniform).
Walked into the menâs bathroom while on lobby to find the toilet, ceiling, Sink, Counter, Floor AND soap dispenser dripping with blood. Now, because our store is super sketchy from corruption, I normally have to clean the bathroom using two rags, window fluid, and barehanded. Seeing as I grew up in a house where we spent just as much time in the hospital, I knew this was wrong, and drew the line at Skin contact with blood so I go ask a 'managerâ what to do and they just sigh and say âAgain? Clean it like normally, duhâ. I threw a fucking FIT. Thank god the Ass. Manager who was good overheard and said âUh. NO.â And tossed me some gloves and the glorious bottle of sanitizer only cooks get to use.
And Finally, Iâm on lobby and I go to grab a broom from the back closet and the fricken lighting fixture falls on me, hard enough to make me see stars and my vision to blur.
For the sake of understanding why this freaked me out- I had a similar reaction when I got a concussion that made me get glasses.
Anyhoo, So I scream in pain, and then yell for help so that someone can grab the light fixture so I can get out of the closet. One of the cooks yells âFuck off, weâre too busy to kiss your goddamnned booboo.â A 'managerâ in the distance is yelling for me, and my actual manager is yelling whereâs our lobby, but I donât think they can hear me. I try to put up the light so I can get out, but as Iâm leaving it smacks me in the back of the head even harder.
I literally stumble to the front, unable to see straight, my anxiety is so bad I canât breathe and the corners of my vision are going black. The 'Managerâ was actually a decent human being and jokingly asked me what took me so long. The Manager flipped shit, saying she was writing me up and how dare I go check my phone and I swear was about to fire me there when- Thank GOD for the guardian angel that she is- the Assistant Manager comes swooping in.
âYou look like youâre gonna fall over.â
âThe lighting fixture in the back fell onto my goddamnned head. TWICE. I tried to call for help but the cooks said they were too busy to help.â
âOh my god, WHAT!? Com'on, Iâll check you out.â
One full look over for blood or concussion, a clean bill of health, an offer to let me leave early, 2 chewed out cooks later, and one VERY long meeting between the assistant manager and the Manager later, I still worked to the end of my shift. But Iâm pretty sure that was the tipping point when my Assistant Manager started campaigning to get our Manager transferred so she could take over and fix everything.
I have a TON more stories where good things happened, or weird things, or just really sketchy things, as well as some AMAZING co worker stories but this is long enough and these are the ones that have me tell everyone with anxiety to run the other way if anyone even MENTIONS fast food. Go work in a shitty cafe that has weird rules. Youâll be so much happier.