About twenty years ago, I wound up working my summer break at Burger King, where Whoppers™ are Made Your Way. It wasn't exactly my dream summer job; my previous gig was being a lifeguard at a quiet neighborhood pool. And yet, it was probably the most educational 3-months I ever endured.
Your Way can be a pain in the ass
From Burger King, I learned what it's like to grind out thankless hours. I came away with a new understanding of (and appreciation for) just what kind of people work behind the drive-thru window. I also got pretty good at constructing assembly-line hamburgers. And now I pass this incredible wisdom down to you.
- You get what you pay for. Most people I know share their incredulous I Got A Wrong Order At The Drive-Thru stories with so much grim emotion, you forget they just spent the lowest possible amount of money for a meal. Listen, Your Highness, nobody wanted to give you the wrong order. If you want a salad, but with no cucumbers, and God still punishes you with cucumbers, just park the car, walk inside, and calmly alert the cashier that an honest error has been made. This is a winning strategy.
- We want to give you extra ketchup. Actually, we really don't care. You want more ketchup? Here you go. Except you know who doesn't want you to have extra ketchup? Some nutty accountant at fast food headquarters who realized that handing out three ketchup packets instead of two was costing the company, like, a million bucks a year. That nit-picky observation gets passed down to the haggard store manager who's pressured to cut costs, who passes it down to the poor schmuck at the window who is forced to police how many packets of ketchup end up in your bag. If you have a complaint about ketchup or honey mustard or ranch dressing, yell at Corporate.
- Workers aren't just teenagers saving cash for sick skateboards. I mean, I was. But the people I worked with were mostly lower-class adults busting-ass on two jobs just to make a payment on their home or vehicle. Most are between the ages of 25-54, and the majority are white women. My coworkers weren't liberal leeches on society. These were hard-working men and women with limited options.
- People treat fast food workers like dirt. If you're a convicted felon on parole after having committed society's most egregious atrocities, you still have full license to walk into a a fast food joint and be a complete dick to the person behind the counter. It doesn't help that people walk in hungry. Hungry people are jerks. People seem to take pride in berating fast food workers, as if your value meal purchase is a terrible fee that supports the nation's lazy.
- There are no golden parachutes in fast food. My manager was her most panicked the moment my weekly hours crept closer to 40. Why? If I worked 40 hours, I was a full-time employee, which entitled me to benefits that Burger King didn't want to play. I didn't have insurance. A 401K. Profit share. Performance bonus. Nothing! Just like everyone else making burgers alongside me, all I had was the paycheck, which today earns a worker in Arkansas between $18K and 19K per year. Hell, I had to buy my own uniform. Think I got free food? Think again! We received a once-per-day 50% discount on a sandwich. One sandwich a day for half the price! So yeah, them's the perks.
Today, I see videos posted online of people pranking drive-thru workers, and these videos are met with laughter rather than submitted as evidence in a court of law. Fast food workers are the unheralded backbone of our society, helping you combat midnight munchies or hold you over during an 8-hour road trip. Appreciate these people. Even if they're reluctant to give you extra ketchup.