Since I awoke at precisely the same time I was supposed to clock-in for my 7:00 am shift at McDonald's, I did not hold much hope of it being a great day; but, gratefully, I was wrong.
A severe storm around 4:00 am that morning had knocked-out the power sometime between then and the time my alarm was set to go off at 5:45 am. So in lieu of leisurely showering, walking Charles and having a grand breakfast while playing some Pogo, as is my usual ritual, I hurriedly called 411 to get McDonald's phone number to warn them of my tardiness, brushed my teeth while kicking Charlie out the door to relieve himself, shoveling granola and yogurt down my gullet and calling a friend to get the number of the electric company to ensure the power issue was being addressed. Stressful, indeed.
I walked in around 7:30 am to the usual weekend crew, a magnificent collection of eclectic Souls. I had already delightedly deduced, by noting who was temporarily stationed there awaiting my arrival, that I'd be in my normal spot as the primary drive-thru order taker and intermittent cashier; then verified my assumption with a glance at the schedule. After exchanging various greetings and grumblings over my loss of electricity, I happily took up my post, donned my headset and readied myself with a sunny disposition, leaving the morning's rift miles behind. At 8:00 am the shift's cashier arrived and I busied myself with sporadic cleaning projects and brewing iced tea while taking orders.
Taking orders for drive-thru is perhaps a job better suited to me than any other as it relies exclusively on my characteristic auditory nature. Typically people operate by sight, taking cues from visual stimuli to fire neural synapses and activate brain activity. I, along with a small subset of the world's population, function solely by auditory stimuli, and I've honed this talent to the point where I often find myself closing my eyes to concentrate and tap into my optimal thinking potential. This is why I prefer to attend meetings via conference call at Hospira, stare at a blank wall while running and entertain myself by listening to podcasts and audiobooks instead of watching television or movies. Even if there is a TV on, I am at most paying attention by listening, I rarely watch it which is precisely why I do not own one; I simply don't find them as enjoyable as listening to my laptop or Ipod. To that point, I'm able to listen to an order while crammed into some corner cleaning grease off the wall, retain the information, tap it into the computer, relate the order's total to the customer as I've memorized them for the majority of our common combinations (i.e. 2 large drinks, 2 McDoubles and a McChicken, an Egg McMuffin meal, etc.), then hurriedly get up and have the order into the store before the car even reaches the cashier. I am, effectively, a machine; and I authentically take pride in my work.
To say nothing of the enjoyment I get from the diversity and generally awesome real-world, down-to-earth, attitudes of my fellow McDonald's employees, to the Manager's that bust their butts right along with the rest of us (and typically harder), to the every day customers with whom I relate best to due to my own blue collar upbringing; I love the added dimension that this seemingly meaningless, trivial, job also brings to my position at Hospira. This fact became especially pronounced on this particular day, as it served to give me a confidence boost and touched my heart in ways that has not happened in quite some time. Now, I've delighted in seeing many of my Hospira colleagues while working my McDonald's shifts, mostly production personnel during their breaks, but this also included cashing out two of the tippy-top leaders at the plant, for Operations and Quality, respectively. Since my job is mid-level and a big project has previously made some of my work visible to them, they've come to know me and looked at me quizzically wearing my McDonald's garb and a cheery smile as they reach the drive-thru window. To one I joked, 'my boss doesn't pay me enough,' but I only did so because I was certain he'd understand that I meant it in jest. In general, I do my best to be affable and get to know all my fellows Hospirians, offering any assistance I can, so my name and face are at least partially ubiquitous. Yet it does not often occur to me that there are people who see me at both places who I fail to recognize. What I view as my normal and mundane dual-job schedule thus becomes highlighted in my community, which is what led to my aforementioned confidence boost.
I was training a newbie on drive-thru, and since he turned out to be a natural, I left him to bee-bop around with my drive-thru headset intact so that I could continue to listen to his order taking abilities and come to his rescue if needed. Meanwhile, I cleaned, cooked and packaged hash browns, sanitized trays, filled condiment containers, etc. I saw someone, as is typical on the weekends, that I had seen at Hospira many times and who is familiar with 'my level' of work there; the usual quizzical look and brief exchange ensued whereby I explain that this is my 'weekend job, for fun,' then I scampered off, slapping the fun-loving front counter guy on the butt as I did so. I didn't think anything of that exchange until later when one of the managers stopped me and said 'Summer, you're a really great worker.' This surprised me, she continued, 'A customer was explaining to another today that you are very important and worked hard at Hospira, but work here on the weekends anyway.' Now, I do not talk about what I do at Hospira with my McDonald's peers, nor do they know that I have a MS in Biological Sciences. Simply put, I'm not into titles nor do I view myself as anything extraordinary or as possessing superior intelligence; I'm just a normal chick from Northern New York with a mild Canadian accent and a moderate eating disorder. In fact, one critical aspect of my McDonald's job is it is where I can go to just be another piss-on, where no one expects anything from me other than taking orders and cleaning when I feel ambitious. It also is a great way to let my filter adjust and interact with people I can relate too; as sometimes my head gets bogged down in corporate diplomacy. Regardless, I had certainly never thought of myself as 'very important' at Hospira, but now realizing how colleagues at both jobs viewed me served to warm my heart. I think of myself as a hard worker, and though I neither seek nor desire validation of that fact, it is nevertheless nice to hear it's sociological verification.
This all gets to the heart of why I choose to work at McDonald's, I find it rewarding on multiple levels and genuinely love seeing and conversing with my colleagues as well as the customers, with astoundingly few exceptions. And yes, there are indeed exceptions. One of my co-workers does nothing but complain. When he inevitably starts in about his fiancee's many correspondences with prison inhabitants (in truth, I find this hilarious and can't decide whether she's crazy or just really nice), lack of money, or the fact he's tired, I have to constantly remind him that he has two choices: change the situation or accept it for what it is. I will not suffer complacent complainers; I may have compassion, but I have not a shred of sympathy as there are few things that are completely out of our control to change. One can at least take steps to alleviate their discomfort, even if it doesn't completely fix their situation. On another occasion, a old lady once bellowed, after I asked her if she wanted a Ranch, Honey Mustard or Chipotle BBQ Snack Wrap, "Can't you hear?! I said Ranch!." I was so stunned that I just stared at her blankly, contemplating what on earth would possess someone to treat a complete stranger with such abhorrent meanness. I quickly decided that she must be possessed by the Devil, and there was a split second as I acknowledged my pissed-off meter was near boiling over. I knew I had to decide whether to rise above the situation with serenity or light into this old bag like a ravenous mongoose. I decided to satiate the inner animal. Unfortunately I don't remember the rest of the interaction because I suffer from mild rage black-outs, but I remember saying something about borrowing her hearing aid and came-to in the bathroom a short while later.
And though I don't work there for the money, there's also the fact that one McDonald's shift can buy me a week's worth of groceries, and is thereby allowing me to rapidly pay off my credit card debt and get work done on my house. It's enough incentive to get me through the infrequent rough patches. So, for now, I'm Lovin' It!
A severe storm around 4:00 am that morning had knocked-out the power sometime between then and the time my alarm was set to go off at 5:45 am. So in lieu of leisurely showering, walking Charles and having a grand breakfast while playing some Pogo, as is my usual ritual, I hurriedly called 411 to get McDonald's phone number to warn them of my tardiness, brushed my teeth while kicking Charlie out the door to relieve himself, shoveling granola and yogurt down my gullet and calling a friend to get the number of the electric company to ensure the power issue was being addressed. Stressful, indeed.
I walked in around 7:30 am to the usual weekend crew, a magnificent collection of eclectic Souls. I had already delightedly deduced, by noting who was temporarily stationed there awaiting my arrival, that I'd be in my normal spot as the primary drive-thru order taker and intermittent cashier; then verified my assumption with a glance at the schedule. After exchanging various greetings and grumblings over my loss of electricity, I happily took up my post, donned my headset and readied myself with a sunny disposition, leaving the morning's rift miles behind. At 8:00 am the shift's cashier arrived and I busied myself with sporadic cleaning projects and brewing iced tea while taking orders.
Taking orders for drive-thru is perhaps a job better suited to me than any other as it relies exclusively on my characteristic auditory nature. Typically people operate by sight, taking cues from visual stimuli to fire neural synapses and activate brain activity. I, along with a small subset of the world's population, function solely by auditory stimuli, and I've honed this talent to the point where I often find myself closing my eyes to concentrate and tap into my optimal thinking potential. This is why I prefer to attend meetings via conference call at Hospira, stare at a blank wall while running and entertain myself by listening to podcasts and audiobooks instead of watching television or movies. Even if there is a TV on, I am at most paying attention by listening, I rarely watch it which is precisely why I do not own one; I simply don't find them as enjoyable as listening to my laptop or Ipod. To that point, I'm able to listen to an order while crammed into some corner cleaning grease off the wall, retain the information, tap it into the computer, relate the order's total to the customer as I've memorized them for the majority of our common combinations (i.e. 2 large drinks, 2 McDoubles and a McChicken, an Egg McMuffin meal, etc.), then hurriedly get up and have the order into the store before the car even reaches the cashier. I am, effectively, a machine; and I authentically take pride in my work.
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| Do you want Hot or Mild sauce with your breakfast burrito? |
I was training a newbie on drive-thru, and since he turned out to be a natural, I left him to bee-bop around with my drive-thru headset intact so that I could continue to listen to his order taking abilities and come to his rescue if needed. Meanwhile, I cleaned, cooked and packaged hash browns, sanitized trays, filled condiment containers, etc. I saw someone, as is typical on the weekends, that I had seen at Hospira many times and who is familiar with 'my level' of work there; the usual quizzical look and brief exchange ensued whereby I explain that this is my 'weekend job, for fun,' then I scampered off, slapping the fun-loving front counter guy on the butt as I did so. I didn't think anything of that exchange until later when one of the managers stopped me and said 'Summer, you're a really great worker.' This surprised me, she continued, 'A customer was explaining to another today that you are very important and worked hard at Hospira, but work here on the weekends anyway.' Now, I do not talk about what I do at Hospira with my McDonald's peers, nor do they know that I have a MS in Biological Sciences. Simply put, I'm not into titles nor do I view myself as anything extraordinary or as possessing superior intelligence; I'm just a normal chick from Northern New York with a mild Canadian accent and a moderate eating disorder. In fact, one critical aspect of my McDonald's job is it is where I can go to just be another piss-on, where no one expects anything from me other than taking orders and cleaning when I feel ambitious. It also is a great way to let my filter adjust and interact with people I can relate too; as sometimes my head gets bogged down in corporate diplomacy. Regardless, I had certainly never thought of myself as 'very important' at Hospira, but now realizing how colleagues at both jobs viewed me served to warm my heart. I think of myself as a hard worker, and though I neither seek nor desire validation of that fact, it is nevertheless nice to hear it's sociological verification.
This all gets to the heart of why I choose to work at McDonald's, I find it rewarding on multiple levels and genuinely love seeing and conversing with my colleagues as well as the customers, with astoundingly few exceptions. And yes, there are indeed exceptions. One of my co-workers does nothing but complain. When he inevitably starts in about his fiancee's many correspondences with prison inhabitants (in truth, I find this hilarious and can't decide whether she's crazy or just really nice), lack of money, or the fact he's tired, I have to constantly remind him that he has two choices: change the situation or accept it for what it is. I will not suffer complacent complainers; I may have compassion, but I have not a shred of sympathy as there are few things that are completely out of our control to change. One can at least take steps to alleviate their discomfort, even if it doesn't completely fix their situation. On another occasion, a old lady once bellowed, after I asked her if she wanted a Ranch, Honey Mustard or Chipotle BBQ Snack Wrap, "Can't you hear?! I said Ranch!." I was so stunned that I just stared at her blankly, contemplating what on earth would possess someone to treat a complete stranger with such abhorrent meanness. I quickly decided that she must be possessed by the Devil, and there was a split second as I acknowledged my pissed-off meter was near boiling over. I knew I had to decide whether to rise above the situation with serenity or light into this old bag like a ravenous mongoose. I decided to satiate the inner animal. Unfortunately I don't remember the rest of the interaction because I suffer from mild rage black-outs, but I remember saying something about borrowing her hearing aid and came-to in the bathroom a short while later.
And though I don't work there for the money, there's also the fact that one McDonald's shift can buy me a week's worth of groceries, and is thereby allowing me to rapidly pay off my credit card debt and get work done on my house. It's enough incentive to get me through the infrequent rough patches. So, for now, I'm Lovin' It!
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