Just kidding. But Harmony and her husband are convinced that I am indeed McDonald’s, and that Harmony is a certified technological genius. More on that later.
I was convinced by my friends & followers online to write to Mr. Kausky after his suggestion of thanking a soldier for the freedom to choose fast food. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you need to read “I AM NOT McDONALD’S” and “I’m still not McDonald’s“.
At any rate, this is how I chose to respond to the good-natured manager of the Canonsburg McDonald’s:
From: Waldo Lunar <world.and.lunar.domination@gmail.com>
Date: Wed, Sep 7, 2011
Subject: Re: AiXeLsyD13 / W(aL)D – I’m not McDonald’s
To: Scott Kausky
Cc: pit.05834@us.stores.mcd.com, info@westliberty.mcdtoday.com, sandra.jaeger@gmail.com, krebs955@gmail.com, shovelman11@yahoo.com, pastorskid_tiwtc4u@yahoo.com, Ella.Jones@us.mcd.com, McDonaldsCorporation@mcd.com, McDonalds.CustomerCare@us.mcd.com, kathy.pieroni@us.mcd.com
Hello Mr. Kausky,
Pardon me if I’m misreading the tone of your email, but please calm down. Have some dip.
My inclusion of you on the original email was because I’ve had pleasant dealings with you & your McDonald’s location in the past. I’m convinced that you were instrumental in finally getting a response from Ms. Jones the last time I had an issue with the West Liberty Ave. McDonald’s location. I read you as a man of action, with great pride in your company.
Perhaps you would be better off at a Chick-Fil-A? They seem to treat their employees better, and you’d never work on Sundays. You may not be so stressed & jumpy. Ever notice they always say “My Pleasure” instead of “You’re Welcome” when you thank them? I can’t decide if it’s awesome, or cult-like. I’m pretty sure that no one at any McDonald’s ever has acted like it was their pleasure to give me a lopsided cheeseburger. (Seriously, spot-check that stuff. I haven’t done a formal study yet, but I’m guessing that 75% of the time, the pickles are stacked on one side of the burger, not placed side-by-side in the middle… and that 95% of the time, there is ketchup and/or mustard on the outside of the bun.) Although, I have never seen an alarm clock with a subliminal cow penis at McDonald’s… even if you have poorly copied the Chick-fil-A sandwich.
I have four email addresses for people representing the West Liberty Ave. McDonald’s. None of them have replied to my original email. This shows lack of pride. I’m sure you would be disappointed in their lack of response. That’s… pit.05834@us.stores.mcd.com, info@westliberty.mcdtoday.com, sandra.jaeger@gmail.com, & Ella.Jones@us.mcd.com.
I’m a concerned citizen, trying to help the confused yet adamant Harmony get in contact with the correct people. Amber & Shirley need my help too. Their complaints are valid, and think about this… out of the entire internet that exists out there… these people have managed to find my blog to submit complaints about what I can call possibly the most incompetent McDonald’s location ever. It’s not their fault that they can’t tell that I am not McDonald’s.
Harmony has her own issues, as she can’t distinguish between an email address and a website… but that doesn’t change the fact that she was not offered a mango pineapple smoothie, and it took 15 minutes to get her additional sandwich and Rolo McFlurry while ¾ of the crew members where congregating by the drive-thru. (Hopefully they weren’t conjugating… right?) A mango pineapple smoothie sounds absolutely disgusting, but if Harmony wanted to be offered one that’s her right.
Speaking of rights, I’m not sure how I provoked the antagonistic patriotism and perceived lack of disrespect for our armed forces and freedom. I apologize if I have offended you in any way. Were you watching the History channel, election coverage, or perhaps drinking when you received my email? (I’m not judging, I would imagine one would have to partake in the occasional sip of spirits in order to cope with the stress of running a McDonald’s on top of receiving emails from crazy people.)
I am indeed glad that I have the freedom to rant about customer service issues and fast food quality on the internet. You’re right though, I will indeed thank a soldier the next time I see them. You’ll have to promise to instruct your fellow McDonald’s managers and employees to thank a soldier next time they see them too. They need to thank them for the freedom to serve poorly constructed sandwiches, cold french fries, and for opportunities to congregate by the drive-thru while paying customers wait (im?)patiently. While we’re at it, they should thank them for the freedom to dumb-down the populace by changing words like “through” to “thru” and “Night” to “Nite”. I’m not positive, but I can only assume such offenses would not go unpunished in the former Soviet Union or current Communist blockades like China, one of the Koreas, or Cuba. I can imagine one being caned in a Singapore McDonald’s for congregating by the drive-thru, or having ketchup fall on the outside of a bun.
At any rate, I would like to share with you my overall adventures in correspondence with McDonald’s. I hope to amuse and amaze you in chronological order below:
Just so you don’t feel bad, check this one out: Wendy’s in Dormont (Pittsburgh, PA) – W. LIBERTY #5
I hope you took the time to read all of the comments. I am not McDonald’s, and I am not alone. There are more (albeit less electronically vocal) of me out there. We will not remain silent. We will continue to consume your poorly assembled meals while grumbling under our breath. We will contunite to have a mental block when it comes to actual time spent waiting for “fast food” to be prepared & served versus the perceived speed of choosing to dine at such establishments. We will continue to craft poorly worded and misspelled messages and send them to the wrong people. We will celebrate the fact that we have the freedom to do all of the above.
So, we have arrived to now. What’s happening now, is happening now. I hope you have enjoyed the ride. Please keep all arms, legs, & other appendages inside the car until it comes to a complete stop. Thanks for flying W(aL)D Airlines, may the force be with you. (..and also with you, Amen.)
Your baffled consumer advocate,
-Eric AiXeLsyD
World (and Lunar) Domination
Heh. I decided to go goofy at the end. I got his reply, and have decided to leave this poor man alone. Why? He actually takes pride in his McDonald’s, and seems to have a rare killer work ethic:
From: Scott Kausky <skausky33@verizon.net>
Date: Wed, Sep 7, 2011
Subject: Re: AiXeLsyD13 / W(aL)D – I’m not McDonald’s
To: Waldo Lunar <world.and.lunar.domination@gmail.com>
Eric
I didn’t send the email you to upset you either. I represent my McDonalds. I was just stating the fact that our soldiers give us the freedom to complain. I’m old fashioned perhaps, if I continued to have issues, I would simply not return. Thats how I run my store. We don’t want them to go else where so we do it right and fix the issues that arrive. The stores that have issues generally might be due to the town they are in. I appologize if no one responds to your emails. All I know for sure is come visit in Canonsburg and I’ll make it right for you. I enjoy my job and serving our customers. Please dont use my email for any other reason.
With Respect
Scott Kausky
Respect is right. Misguided patriotic rants aside, Scott Kausky is the man. I encourage you to support this McDonald’s location.
We still have the little matter of harmony being convinced that I’m McDonald’s. You can imagine my surprise as this came to my inbox slightly before Scott’s reply above:
From: krebs955@gmail.com <krebs955@gmail.com>
Date: Wed, Sep 7, 2011
Subject: Re: AiXeLsyD13 / W(aL)D – I’m not McDonald’s
To: Waldo Lunar <world.and.lunar.domination@gmail.com>
I don’t have much to say about all this McDonald’s stuff, because I work at one currently and everybody else has said it. However, I will say that Harmony is my wife and she has no issues whatsoever. The reason we posted on your blog is because it was on the bottom of our receipt. She is not technologically challenged, and shame on you for assuming what other people’s problems and issues are.
Upon the arrival of this gem in my inbox, I was kind of speechless. I was also paranoid. Did they indeed pimp my blog’s address at the bottom of a McDonald’s receipt? I would have declared this an absolute win for Ella Jones, Sandra Jaeger, and everyone else that doesn’t reply to emails at the West Libery Ave. McDonald’s. I mean, really, how funny would that be? Along those same lines… if this is a friend or reader yanking my proverbial crank; Kudos! You totally got me.
If this is for real, then may God have mercy on your souls, …and mine for teasing you. Can someone please help me explain this? I thought I did that with my last blog post/email with the lines..
But, I must say that I’m confused. You didn’t email anyone, you used the contact form at my website: https://aixelsyd13.wordpress.com
Is that what appears at the top of the receipt?
I’m guessing that more than likely it says “ella.jones@us.mcd.com” at the top of your receipt. I’m not Ella Jones. You didn’t email me. You didn’t email Ella Jones. You did a Google (or Bing) search for the email address, and landed on my page.
I don't see my email address or blog url on here anywhere. Do you?
Can someone help me simplify that? Should I even bother at this point? I’m confused. Just in case Harmony or her husband find their way back here, I did have to satisfy my curiosity. I stopped & got two sweet teas tonight, just to get a receipt. You can seethe full receipt to the left.
It thankfully (and I’ll admit… somewhat disappointingly) does not include my email address or my blog’s web address.
Which one of my theories do you think is the case here? Do you think they found my blog, & were insulted? I mean no disrespect. I’m just trying to help here. At this point, I’m assuming Shirley and Amber will remain clueless until the end of time. I have yet to receive a reply from either of them, and doubt I will. And, I doubt that I’ll ever hear from Ella Jones or Sandra Jaeger.
I also hope that Harmony’s husband doesn’t work at the West Liberty McDonald’s, and that her going online to complain (“complaine”?) about his corporate employer doesn’t cause some sort of marital rift.
Perhaps a visual aid will help demonstrate:
Trust me, I am not McDonald's.
I don’t think I’ll ever convince them. Think I can get a McDonald’s hat or something? Maybe a name tag? Something? Perhaps I should just start writing back to people pretending that I am indeed McDonald’s.
To compound & confound even more, this is what happened on my latest adventure into this McDonald’s on a mission to obtain a receipt & ultimately verify that I am not McDonald’s:
I pulled into the parking lot somewhere around 8:30pm and the lot was quite full. Most of the cars in the lot were at the outer edge, toward the bottom of the lot, and most likely there for Malone’s Too or Señor Frog’s or whatever that bar is called this week… blatantly ignoring the signs to the effect of “McDonald’s Parking Only” or whatever. I even saw a guy walk out of the bar into his car. Oh well, that’s not really in their control… or is it?
The drive through lanes were both backed up pretty hard, and I’m sure people were cutting in front of each other unhindered as usual… so I opted to just pull into a parking spot & go inside. Bad move? Perhaps.
Once inside, I took my place in line behind a woman and her daughter at the one open/operating register, and a lone dude in front of me. The woman & daughter were mid-order, and there was something going on about apple pies being dropped (in what I can hopefully assume was the fryer) and only one pie being avaiable. They were told there would be an approximate 10 minute wait, but that “it goes fast”. The woman slid to the side as her daughter went to fill their drinks, and I assume find a table.
While this was happening, I saw another McDonald’s employee come up to a register, glance annoyedly at me and the dude in front of me, hit some buttons, then walk away. I’m sorry. Do these employees know that to make money, McDonald’s sells what they pass off as food… and that in order to pay her salary they need to sell vast amounts of lopsided hamburgers with ketchup all over the outside of the bun? I was surprised at how backed up things had become as the drive-through appeared quite frantic & another potential customer came in behind me during a completely non-meal-rush time of day.
Leaving the sole struggling fellow employee at the line register kind of seemed like what I would call a “dick move“. Alas, the mother moved to the left, and slid her tray containing rapidly cooling french fries along with her. Up next? Dude in front of me.
Dude must have also ordered apple pies… as he was told they just dropped. When he asked what that meant, he was told that it meant there would be a ten minute wait for apple pies. Was the young lady at the register trying to use a Jedi mind trick to dissuade the man from ordering apple pies? I’m guessing that she was simply telling a customer that they didn’t want what they ordered. I honestly don’t know why anyone would want to order one of those nasty mucus-like hot-pockets that are supposed to resemble a pie… but if he was willing to shell out his hopefully hard-earned cash for them, I say give them to the man! Order begrudgingly placed, and man moves to the left… overcrowding the woman with her lone order of increasingly algid fries.
I was up! Finally. I was asked what I wanted to order, I requested two sweet teas. I was actually told “Oh, thank you for being an easy one” much to the dismay of the dude directly to my left. He was visibly not amused. I struggled to internally process what had caused such dismay in the poor girl behind the counter as I was handed my receipt… but I was (and still am) at a loss.
Mission complete. I had a receipt in my hand. My name, email address, and blog url are not on the receipt. Success! “Just give me my cups” I thought, as the girl walked away. A kid was leaving his shift… she told him goodbye and proceeded to walk over and talk to the remaining employees about how popular the departing employee was this evening. It somehow turned into a rant about thinking that someone was going to come through the drive-through window at her. Perhaps some other unsatisfied customers earlier this evening?
Then one of the other employees told the girl who had taken my order that it was time for her break. “Break?” she exclaimed, and started to leave. The one with some semblance of sanity said “but first I need you to take care of all these orders.”
I tried to shift to my left, but apple pie guy was holding his ground as I blatantly invaded his personal space. Perhaps his movement was hindered by the woman in front of him with ice fries. The woman behind me was a champion. She pushed ahead to the register like a metal fan in a mosh pit. I think her purse touched my bum. I just want some cups. The girl who took my order looked at me quizzically. Perhaps I looked befuddled. I know where the drink station is. I know how to get ice. I know how to work the knob on the iced tea dispenser. I just need two of those Styrofoam sweet tea cups. At this point, any cups will do.
Steely in her resolve to go on break, or perhaps obliviously, she took the order of the woman behind me. Snack wraps. She broke the code. No apple pies. Smart move, purse push lady. Smart move. The order was punched in, and she started to yet again walk away.
“C… Can I just have some cups?” The words were out of my mouth before my brain knew that I was forming them. I don’t know if I was anxious, or this was my flight response in order to remove myself from the chaos all around me. The girl who took my order paused, and looked at me. I’m sure ice fries and pie guy looked at me too, wondering why I should get my hands on some sweet tea before they were handed their precious disgusting pies. For a split second, I was almost scared. Had I crossed a line? Had I invoked the wrath of a McDonald’s employee mere moments late for her break?
Relief. She grabbed two Styrofoam cups and filled them with ice, then went back to her conversation about the drive through window or something that seemed to annoy her fellow employees.
The girl who had looked at us with disdain earlier while tapping a few buttons on the register reappeared, and asked ice fries what she was waiting for. Ice fries lady (who’s daughter probably had come to terms by now that she was surely abandoned) said something to the effect of… “I’m waiting for pies, but can I have my sandwiches now, & have someone bring out the pies?” This was like a record skipping in a TV show. Several employees stopped and looked at her. I’m not sure if there was an answer… but I did hear that “the pies would be ten minutes.” Surely three to five of those ten minutes had already passed, but who was I to argue?
“Hooolllly coooowww!” I did it again. The words escaped me before I could contain them. Damn you, Ernie and the Berts practice, for amping me all up. By this point, I was looking around for hidden cameras. Was I on a TV show? I think I heard pie guy say “I know” but perhaps he feared the wrath of a pie-less future as it was almost imperceptible.
I was handed my iced teas… I’m guessing the tea dispensers over by the pop machines aren’t filled at night? Makes sense. Even though there was one of me and I ordered two drinks… I wasn’t offered a drink carrier. I wasn’t handed straws or napkins. I sure as heck wasn’t going to ask for any.
I hastily made my was over to the condiment & drink station, got some straws & napkins, then walked back past the counter to the exit, ice fries, pie guy, and snack wrap lady still there… probably envious of my escape to sweet freedom.
I couldn’t help it. As I walked by, I muttered a sing-song like “♪♫ Good luuu-uuck… ♪♫” to my fellow McConsumers. I hope they were amused.
Eu não sou McDonald’s. Ich bin nicht McDonald’s. Io non sono McDonald’s. Jag är inte McDonalds. Je ne suis pas McDonald’s. Jeg er ikke McDonalds. Mimi si McDonald ya. Nem vagyok McDonald’s. Nid wyf yn McDonald’s. Nie jestem McDonalda. Níl mé McDonald’s ar. Non est McDonald’s. Yo no soy McDonald. Δεν είμαι της McDonald’s. Я не Макдональдс. אני לא מקדונלד ‘ס. मैं मैकडॉनल्ड्स नहीं हूँ. 저는 맥도날드 아닙니다. 我不是麦当劳。 私はマクドナルドではない。
I actually stopped at the local Panera the other night because the wife was sick and wanted some of that cheese-broccoli soup. I went in to get some to go, and got myself a half of a turkey sandwich and a cup of the chicken noodle.
World (and Lunar) Domination 