Don’t get me wrong, I have no qualms about how a guy (or gal) earns a buck on the daily grind, but I have always wondered what a person thinks of when his chosen career path is the life of a fast food manager.
I doubt too many six year old kids tell their first grade class on career day that they want to be a professional burger flipper when they grow up. Most of us had dreams of astronauts, athletes, movie stars and the occasional cowboy–but as we all know life is not always fair.
Some of us have to play the hand that we are dealt, whether that be by choice or circumstance. Heck, it might even rest on those corporate greed-mongers jockeying for position to be the next story narrated by Stacey Keach on CNBC as to why some lost cush six figure salaries and are now working for Ronald, Carl or Wendy.
But the prestige of a fast food manager should not be overlooked.
The other day I was visiting the local Taco Bell. Yes, I know, gross! But the last time I was here I ran into none other than Willow Palin here in the town that Sarah built, otherwise known as Wasilly, Alaska.
While I was standing in line waiting for my steak taquito a manager came up to the counter and noticed that another “diner’s” mound of tacos hadn’t been picked up and was just sitting there.
He commenced to unleash a torrent on the young pimply faced kid with a hunk of steel attached to his lip saying–and I quote:
“you are to stand here until the customer picks up his food. If it happens again, you’re fired. Do you understand?!”
I was taken aback and rubbed my eyes to see if it was The Donald (Trump) that said those words to the quaking adolescent, but it wasn’t.
It was a guy that wore the same stupid polyester uniform, a pair of cheap shoes, and the only thing that distinguished him from the kid was a very large set of keys and a name tag that proudly announced: MANAGER.
Believe me I know that times are tight.
It’s tough to support a baby’s momma and a 6-pack a day energy drink habit on a minimum wage fast food manager’s weekly paycheck. Sometimes a little power given to a guy who’s only management experience is a couple years flipping burgers (or stuffin’ tacos) and maybe a course taught by a clown at Mickey D’s U can go quickly to their head.
We all need a quick place to chow down. Thats what keeps these places in business. But when we frequent these places of fine, elegant dining we should not be subjected to a classical darwinian struggle of survival of the fittest of the pimple elite.
Heck I was only here to get a autograph from Willow’s mom. I had my pencil firmly in hand, waiting, she didn’t show….
Maybe next time. But until then spare me the drama and just ask me:
“Would you like fries with that?”