Things you probably didn't know about your McDonalds.....

ONE: We, the employees, hate you, the customer, when you order stupid
stuff. Don't order the burgers "medium" or "rare" or any other way. They
were all cooked on a timed grill about ten minutes ago. In the mornings
don't ask for fresh pancakes. They all come pre-cooked and we heat them in
a microwave.

TWO: We re-date stuff. All the time. Apple pies, salads and those Fruit N
Yogurt parfaits. If the strawberry color is fading into the yogurt - it
means your parfait was made one or two days ago.

THREE: They hire morons for managers. My manager - a nineteen year old kid,
thought it was funny how upset I got that the fridge temp went up to 50
degrees. He had turned off the cooling system so he could stock in
comfort.

Mylife.com is a freaking sham that I literally just threw sixty bucks at
and my bf wont dispute the charges. I shouldn't let it get to me as there
is not much I can do - and when I switch jobs in a few weeks that sixty
isn't going to seem like much. But still. GRRR!

We finally moved into a house! Yay! Not to mention solid internet
connection. I learned how to conquer Facebook and have been playing all
those silly games non stop. So life is awesome.

I'll make a more complete update later - especially about the manager at
McD's who thinks it's okay to yell at me for helping other employee's.
(Seriously - they wrote me up a warning about doing my job only unless a
manager asks, talk about freakin' teamwork huh?) I just feel lazy now and
want to browse what I've been missing this past month.

Forgive me Planet Feedback for I have shopped. It has been a while since my
last suggestion.........

Anyway, my lease on the house started on the first. The lease at my
apartment end on the end of this month. I have an entire month to move -
and for some reason this does not seem like enough time.

I have decided to abuse the situation the gay people are in and tell
everyone that I will not marry until all can marry.

Or at least tell everyone that I'm not religious. Seriously, I don't belong
to a congregation. I don't go to church. I don't plan to ever. So why
marry? I like my name. I hate jewelry. I don't like sharing.

On another topic, I think I've finally gotten the hang of work. I'm
scheduled for eight hours and finish everything I needed to do for the day
in three. I goofed off for the rest of the day and tried to be a help
elsewhere. Every time a manager hunted me down it went like this ....

"Gypsy, you have parfaits done?"
"Yeah, why are you out?"
"No, just making sure you're doing your work"

"Gypsy, are you on fries today?"
"No - I'm on prep duty today"
"How does your prep look?"
"Perfect"

"Gypsy, how does the lobby look?"
"I don't know"
"Why not?"
"Holly's on Lobby today"



I'm going to run away and be a stripper.

When I was pregnant and jobless I used to drive out to my moms house to
sleep on her couch. Whoever said "There's no going home again" obviously
didn't dine on an Italian families leftovers.

I would stay up all night because my sleep was out of whack. I used to
watch Jon and Kate Plus Eight.

I seriously cried when the renewed their wedding vows and secretly I wished
that I had a house like theirs. A backyard like theirs. A family all
sitting at a table to a meal. Every day an adventure that didn't include
everyone staring at a TV.

And now Jon has been seen with another woman.

If they break up I will completely stop watching TV. It's stupid to feel
this way over someone I've never met and probably never will.

Which is the greater sin in Christian eyes?
Is it abortion?
Or raising a baby out of wedlock?
Because if one more opinionated old fool has something to say about me and
my child I may just forget my "Dear Abby" etiquette and go off on someone.
I cannot believe the audacity of some people.
Generally I like old people. I do - they have the best stories and tend to
listen better than persons a quarter of their age. The rare ones are
stubborn fools who cannot keep their ideals to themselves and just let me
be.

Ever just have one of those amazing weekends? I don't know about you but
when I was in high school a weekend was enough to change everything. Being
a couch hermit could mean you missed something major and for a whole week
you'd feel left behind, just a little bit more like an outsider in the
strange land of teenage angst. Or that prom party you decided to throw
because your mom wont let you stay out to late becomes an astonishing
success! (All thanks to a feud dividing a clique at just the right moment)
Then for a whole week you're the talk of the town and your social circle
grows a bit larger.
One weekend to set your course. Friday, Saturday, Sunday.
Three days to make or break you.
Or at least dictate who you'll be hanging with next Saturday.
I was calling houses for rent like all day Thursday. The only one to call
back was the one with a really kick ass yard.
The landlady showed the house to the boyfriend, offspring and me at 10:30
am on Friday. By 1:30 pm I'm putting a down deposit on it.
Wham bam thank you ma'am!
Then I show up at work on Saturday only to find that an old friend from
high school has started to work there. And she totally wants to hang out!
She has the best stories ever and has seen almost every band I've herd of
in concert (and has even drank with them!!)
This Saturday was also my pre-birthday bash with monies from my previous
job that I wasn't expecting in my budget. Yes I know I should be holding
onto every penny - but now we just have so much more to celebrate for!
Anyway - the bf and I were supposed to be going to a strip club to see
Jesse Jane, one of the leading ladies from Pirates, which was the first
porn I had ever seen. I know, not very becoming of a new mother but there
is literally nothing to do in my town, and the strip club is a cool place
to hang. They have great service, great drinks and a really fun atmosphere.
(Plus the evil inner me is secretly elated ever time a Barbie doll come to
life complements me. I love the ones that are about stuff I can't control -
like how tall I am, or how they like my hair, but I'll still take the
complements about my outfits) Unfortunately our DD fell through so we
ending up drinking in town.
Somehow that turned out to be the most amazing thing ever. We flirted and
held hands and I teased the bf because our waitress was making eyes at him.
Thank the Cosmos for babysitting grandmas.
Showing up for work on Sunday (today) hungover was fun. I'm not even being
sarcastic. I went in early for coffee and to share my battle stories.
Pomegranate Lemonade, with Stoli and schnapps and sweet n sour. Not feeling
it until drink two. Staying up till two. Coming to work at 6 am.

Greatest weekend of my life. Just like old times.

I don't wanna go! I miss lounging around and playing on the computer all
night. Not to mention I've been there long enough now where everyone is all
jokey and friendly with me. When I left work the other day I got hugs from
three different girls ages ranging from fifteen to twenty-eight, as I was
leaving. One of them I have never so much as said "Hello" to. What would
dear Abby say!??

No really. I do. I have never thought drool to be cute. I hate the smell of
milk. I don't understand how primitive people dealt with cloth diapers.
(Now before the environment savers get onto me - have you seen the great
leap cloth diapers have come upon since 1904? No - you weren't there)
But here I am, slow dancing to my favorite song. The disco ball sending
multicolor lights across a darkened room. Cheek to cheek with the love of
my life. Too bad she's only four months old, and I can't remember why I
don't like her.
I'm too tired to clean my apartment. No one wants to rent a house to an
unwed mother. My laundry quarter stash is all but dried up - along with the
spit up that adorns all my clothes. I run the dishwasher at half mast
(Something my penny pinching mother would never approve of) because I'm in
constant need of bottles and afraid I'm not cleaning them well enough by
hand. Whenever I get ready to go anywhere I have to allow an extra hour for
unexpected things, like spit up on my shirt or a sudden need for a diaper
change. I get up at 4am, not to go to "work" but to go to "my time off of
the baby". I swear she is finely tuned to know when I want some time alone
with Daddy, and is accordingly annoying.
But then I have nights like last night. A wobbly uncertain hand reaches for
my face as the last chorus fades out. Her eyes lock onto mine and a coo
emerges from her lips. The dance is over and it's way past the time she
usually falls asleep. I lay her into the crib and instead of the tears I
was expecting she smiles up at me. Her gaze drifts away from mine and her
eyes focus on nothing in particular and her lids start to droop. This is
the most singular amazing moment I've had in so long.

But really, I swear, I don't like babies. I can't imagine why anyone would.

Mamasita worked with me today. She came over to my kitchen prep area as I
was rolling burritos. She takes one. Unfolds it. Folds it back up and walks
away. I'm guessing that this means my burritos passed inspection. My knees
shake in relief.

Or maybe they shake in major caffein overdose as I was on like my third cup
of coffee at seven in the morning. Lol, I stroll in at five of five (in the
am, ugh) with my manger asking me if I had a late night. Yes, yes I did.
But my sleep debt was not due to baby-ness.

Last night I went to the world premier of an independent film called
"Walking to Maryland". It was filmed in my home town with the two main
characters being from my graduating class. I cannot explain how proud I was
that "one of us" had made it to the little screen, dragging our sleepy town
with it. Although glorious, I don't think the movie is going to make it
into mainstream theaters. They had spread the story line too thin by
providing too many topics and then not fully exploring any one of them.
There were a great many touching scenes and some amazing acting by Mike
Kolzowski, and I wouldn't be surprised if he went somewhere in the movie
industry. Mellisa Anne, although compelling, is best suited for the stage
life. Maybe we'll see her on Broadway? In either case keep a lookout for
these names and know you read about them here first!

So...
Yesterday I was yelled at (okay, talked sternly to) by one of the cooks
affectionately known as Mamasita. When she's upset she goes off in spanish
(it makes me think of that Wal-Mart post) and sometimes she's hard to
understand. Like when she's telling me I'm doing the burritos wrong. She
came up to me and keeps saying "Like this, like this" and wrapping them,
but for the life of me I have no idea what she wants from me. I'm wrapping
them. I'm putting them in paper. I don't know why they fall apart in the
microwave. She even brings back one to show me what happens to them and
goes on - "No, no, like this."
I'm near tears. I fondly recall blissful moments in bartending where one
can do no wrong (ugh! darn my necessity for health insurance!) I hate being
micro managed. In my head I'm already planning my dramatic exit. Burritos
strewn everywhere! I'll throw my stupid apron to the floor! 'Do it
yourself!' I'll proclaim! The managers will come see what all the ruckus is
about. 'I quit!' I'll loudly shout. The managers will remind me of the
policy that I cannot receive my last paycheck until I turn in my uniform,
even though I haven't even been there long enough to get the first. 'Keep
the ugly uniform' I'll retort as I strip boldly down to my post preggo
granny panties and my breastfeeding tank top.
But then I realize that Mamasita will settle for more tape on the burritos.
Her eyes tell me that it's okay, I'll learn to wrap them eventually, and
then she proceeds to thank me so genuinely that I am shamed for my mental
outburst. The day dream me tries to put the pants back on without falling
over.

Today I hate the burritos. I can't even stand looking at them. Teenagers
can do this why not me? Have I really become that spoiled from pouring
drinks for so long that I can't learn something new?

I do everything I can to avoid confrontation with these burritos. I make
parfaits. I put together salads. I brew tea. I stock the fridge. I break
down boxes. I have the cleanest work area since Ceaser's reign.
Until finally it's just me, the burritos, and two hours left in my shift.

I aim to kill! I lay out a fight plan and execute! I wrap the burritos so
tight I'm sure they'll break. I'm gleefully replaying that episode in
Seinfeild in which Kramer uses these cuban cigar wrappers to wrap crepes
for the richy people and as they (the richy people) cut into them they
exploded! I envision the angry customers. Anticipating the angst, and the
angry calls each time the cooks come into my prep area to grab one.
"There should have been a warning on the label!" They will cry. The
lawsuits will come pouring in. I will become directly linked to the
offending burritos.
"Why did you do it?" The lawyers will want to know. I, of course, would
have been advised not to comment by the McD's lawyers. Good move on their
part.
Then, finally, it is over. The ticking time bombs are all safely stored
away. My revenge is nigh.
Thats when they start hollering for apple pies.
I then noticed that I day dreamed too long to be able to go on break.
Realizing reality, I am able to rectify this situation by begging off early
(after the apple pies of course) and succeeding. Although I don't have time
to pluck my eyebrows (and I can't justify a waxing - then it takes away
from house monies) I can still pull off the puppy dog eyes. Or maybe their
labor was high and they were tired of me wondering around in the back....
In either case I'm glad cause McD's has a stick up their arse about only
smoking when you're on break. Yeah I know, gross habit - especially coming
from a new mom. At least I was able to quit for almost a year so the baby
could breath while under water..... my little inside voice doesn't remember
that though. It got excited with my bartending longing because I used to be
able to smoke INSIDE while WORKING!! Somehow the inside voice has forgotten
about the no smoking indoors ban that went into effect just as I realized I
was preggo, so even if I went back I wouldn't be able to smoke.
So I'm trying to dart out the door without raising suspicion (my co-workers
still think I'm sweet) when Gracy from the kitchen catches me. I groan
inwardly. Gracy trained me (once) and upon finding out I had a baby the
same age as her grandbaby has since decided it was okay to go over every
little 'baby' detail. (Why do people find it necessary to compare babies? I
got the best one ... geez)
"I thought you was in prep today" Ugh. I 'was' but do you really have to
talk like that? I mean sometimes I do Lobby and police little kids about
the sock rule, but only on weekends. And never when wearing the godforsaken
apron. Not that I said any of that to her. She's actually really nice -
when I'm not dying for a cigarette.
"Yeah, why?" go ahead ask me for more apple pies! They're already made!
(Who knew McD's baked the pies in house?) or anything else! I'll just tell
you I'm already off the clock! Just don't start in on the baby!
"Your burritos looked good today."

Score! At least I'm off tomorrow :)

Why am I thinking Lucy and Ricky?

Enjoy your day off.

I'm off Mondays and Tuesdays, so guess how surprised I was to receive a
call to see if I can cover my mothers shift this weekend. Actually that was
not the surprising part. The surprising part was who called.

Can you guess?

It was my mom! Now she sports the same job title as me - if anything she
has senority over me but in no way does she have anything to do with
scheduling. So why is she calling me? I told her that if McD's wants me to
work different hours they can call me and speak to me about it. She then
proceeds to tell me that they are too busy to contact me and that I am to
speak about it through her.

Now I don't know how other places work but when I managed a Waffle House I
treated each of the employees as individuals. I had a married couple, two
guys that were dating and a mother daughter group, and I always spoke to
them personally when it came to discussing shift changes, handing out
paychecks and giving out new uniforms.
If my manager can't speak to me (it's now Tuesday - two days later) because
she cannot find the time to ask me to come in then maybe I wont show up.
Honestly what can they do fire me? Fine. I'll just go be a hooker - Playboy
says they aren't being hindered by this recession and I bet my pimp would
have the curtosey to address me personally.

Kidding.

But not about the showing up at work.

I was worried how my birthday-ness would go down since I'm on McD's payroll
but as it turns out I have four uncashed checks from my previous employer!
I used to bartend, and my old boss (My boyfriends aunt) called yesterday to
see 'What up wit dat' and is now re-issuing my checks. I wont be much but
it'll be more then nothing and prolly well enough to get smashed since my
pregnancy has trashed my drinking tolerance.

Anyho - Easter kind of sucked. Ever since my sister died no one has gone to
church and since having the baby out of wedlock I don't feel very welcomed
there. So no palms, no ashes and no miracles. Just working for eight hours
and then ham. No one even got dressed up or took pictures. Then my mother
had the gull to ask me what I got my daughter for Easter.
"Sorry I thought it was silly to buy anything for a three month for a
holiday we weren't even celebrating properly"
I was thus considered rude.
My point of view - Bills are tight, we're trying to get into a house, my
critter has more toys than she can master at the moment and right now she
should be greatfull that I'm not going back to bartending. So why splurge
when she wont even remember - especially when we have such an out pouring
of hand me down clothes, toys and books?

If I had it my way I wouldn't celebrate Easter or Christmas. I don't
consider myself Catholic any more, haven't gone to church in five years and
the last church member stopped speaking to me when I began to show. It's
just a waste of money that could be better spent on quality time with
family.

the very first thing they taught me at six o' three in the am was how to
pull off old date dots and stick on new ones on the salads. I won't even
tell you how I had to pick through the old lettuce to find the "good"
pieces to make "new" salads. Heck I wont even tell you how the salad prep
"jiggers" (buckets) with the cheeses and bacon bits were date dotted for
sunday - and I was asked to peel those off and re-dat them for two days
hence, making the new dots for sat? They meant the dots hadn't been changed
in a week? ew

So all in all - just stick with the fries and burgers.

On the other hand, I throughly enjoyed my time away from the kid. I know, I
know it can be hard when you first go back to work - especially if you have
a mother like mine who feels like bringing the kid up on your break. Now
you feel like you can't escape no matter where you go. Thank Fortuna that
this has only happened once, so on my breaks I get to play with the grown
ups and eat burgers and fries. (Really it's not that I don't love the kid,
I really do - I just really love my time away from her)

So all in all even though McD's will never be as cool as any of my other
jobs (and I even delivered pizza!!) at least it's something. I'm just glad
to get out of the house and as long as I don't have to think to hard at six
o'clock in the morning then I think this might work,.

The last time I saw six in the morning I was going to bed. I can't believe
I actually have to be somewhere and functioning at six am. I miss
bartending where you role in around eleven in the morning. Even if I closed
the bar I'd have eight hours of time before going to work. Now I'm going to
have to drink in the afternoons like the sweet old ladies from the AMVETs
and Eagles clubs - lol. Not that I have anytime to drink .... you would
think that kids would want alone time or something.

Thats okay - if I can hold out until May 30th - the babies daddy's cousin
is having a wedding!
"What was that Granny and Pop Pop? You want to watch the baby during the
reception? Okay fine .... if you need anything I'll just be over here
getting trashed." Lol sooo J/K!!

I did have a beer last Saturday when I went bowling. The first one in a
year. Kinda tasted gross. I guess drinking loses it's fun when you have a
short, howling roommate - I mean who wants a hangover with that mess? How
old do they have to be before shipping them on a plane by themselves to see
Granny and Pop Pop? Five? I can wait. I mean what's five measly years when
your only *mumblemumblemumble*

Tomorrow I'll be starting at McDonalds. Well my orientation is tomorrow in
any case. It'll be my first job since having a baby, and my first time ever
in a low end fast food joint. All my life I've been a waitress or bartender
for higher end places but in my area there are just no jobs available. At
least I'll be able to get insurance from this job.
The thing that scares me the most is that it is right off of a
Greyhound bus station and I hear that the customers can get real crabby
when they feel rushed to get back to the bus. At least it's not a tipping
establishment. (J/K)

Any hoo - I'll get to see first hand what everyone complains about from
PFB!