|   McDonald's 
                    Rainbow: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly 
                    a short story. by lisa spicka 
                  Generally 
                    anyone who knows me would acknowledge that I am not prone 
                    to fast-food consumption. In fact, most of you who know me 
                    probably at some point have been coerced into a brief "discussion" 
                    of the cons of fast-food life. However, I must admit that 
                    I am not innocent of hypocrisy, and on roughly a quarterly 
                    basis, I get a hankering for McDonald's chicken nuggets. In 
                    addition to pseudo-nutrition, my sporadic visits to McDonald's 
                    provide me with great contemplative fodder as I examine the 
                    different aspects of everyday humanity joined together under 
                    the shameless I-can't-help-but-look-at-it car accident fatherliness 
                    of Ronald McDonald. A recent trip to Mickey-D's spanned the 
                    entire spectrum. 
                   The "drive-thru" 
                    (has anybody else noticed this spelling bastardization has 
                    swept the nation?) was booming as I pulled my humble '87 Volkswagon 
                    Jetta (god grant him peace) into the lot and walked into the 
                    scantily filled dining room. As I approached the front counter, 
                    third in line, I couldn't help but notice the arch of bright 
                    red foil letters spelling out "We're Loving It!" 
                    on their bulletin board. A closer look informed me that this 
                    particular McDonald's had been recognized for service excellence 
                    by their secret shoppers in April, May, AND June, which secured 
                    them an additional signed certificate for the entire Second 
                    Quarter of 2003. 
                   I scanned 
                    the staff. This was no ordinary staff. This was a hustling, 
                    bustling, team-talking ("Fries up!" "Thanks, 
                    fries, can you get me two large orders to-go please?!"), 
                    on-top-of-it crew comprised of the expected Lincoln mix of 
                    White, Hispanic, and Native American populations. I wondered 
                    if the success of this crew was due in part to the fact that 
                    many of the staff members were in their mid-30s. Contemplating 
                    the state of the economy, I watched one of the managers as 
                    he attended the people in line. Efficiently making change 
                    and whipping out those beverage cups, he was the epitome of 
                    multi-tasking perfection. His brow gleamed with subdued excitement 
                    as he single-handedly wrangled the waiting line down from 
                    five people to two. But a rush of people stopped by that fateful 
                    noon hour, and he yelled "It's filling up! Let's be ready 
                    people!" Timers sounded, ketchup bottles squirted, and 
                    fry holders filled up in a flurry of activity. To top it all 
                    off, the busy manager even gave me a genuine and proud smile 
                    as he informed me that, indeed, the little "M" (representing 
                    the golden arches) shown on the top of the new McGriddle in 
                    a picture is imprinted on the real-life equivalent. 
                   Tray in hand, 
                    I strolled over to the condiment counter. I located my desired 
                    accessories and helped a gentlemen locate the beverage lids. 
                    He gave me a polite thanks and went on his way. Before I knew 
                    it, a lady came up confused about the straw location, laughing 
                    nervously. Handing her the straw, I assured her that the condiment 
                    section was a completely blinding menagerie of products and 
                    her confusion understandable. She gave me a great smile and 
                    thank you and proceeded to her seat.  
                   I thought about 
                    these brief yet fulfilling interactions and wondered if they 
                    only take place in friendly Nebraska, where there aren't so 
                    many people that you want to ignore all of them. Or was it 
                    just that McDonald's family magic providing that friendly 
                    spark, especially fueled by the staff's incendiary performance 
                    of which these people had not been denied? I took a seat in 
                    a short two-person booth by the door and had these thoughts 
                    reinforced as every single person who walked out the door 
                    looked at me and smiled, nodded, or even said "have a 
                    nice day!" 
                   In the mean time, 
                    I had continued eating my lunch, thinking "this isn't 
                    so bad!" I ate a nugget and dipped it in some hot mustard 
                    sauce. I chewed down on the delectable morsel..."firm 
                    squish." That's what my teeth told me. I worked my tongue 
                    around this affronting morsel and maneuvered it out of my 
                    mouth. Plop. Onto my plastic McDonald's tray tumbled a piece 
                    of cartilage. I thought the beauty of fast-food is that it's 
                    got so many unusable parts put into it that they mash it all 
                    up real good so you won't know it!?! But no, here I have sitting 
                    in front of my eyes, clear as day, exactly one cleanly cleaved 
                    half of that little nub that's at the end of a drumstick. 
                    Come on, you know what I'm talking about.  
                   Then Ray sauntered 
                    up. 
                   Now I had previously 
                    noticed Ray at the fateful condiment counter. I think it was 
                    the way his face anticipated my wandering gaze and tried to 
                    catch my eye as I looked in his general direction that set 
                    off some distant alarms in my head. As it was, I politely 
                    looked away from this man and only offered a half-smile, down 
                    at the floor near him. I hoped it would be interpreted as 
                    a shallowly polite acknowledgement of his existence, no more, 
                    no less. My penchant for second chances and the practice of 
                    non-judgment, however, resulted in me giving him one quick 
                    glance as he approached the door and my booth. 
                   He seized 
                    my flitting gaze as he offered a smile that stretched across 
                    his face like moss on a farm pond. A big, full smile -- as 
                    full a smile, at least, as can be had when looking at a weathered 
                    man with all four front teeth missing from his upper jaw. 
                    I scanned his cowboy boots, worn jeans, and button-up plaid 
                    short-sleeve shirt. His stained baseball cap depicted a cowboy 
                    on horseback lassoing a calf. 
                   "Well hey 
                    there!" The eyes had zeroed in; his body language turned 
                    towards me. 
                   "Have a good 
                    day," I gave him a half smile and looked back down at 
                    my food. 
                   "Well now 
                    what are you up to!" he breathed as he quickly settled 
                    himself down opposite me in my short two-person booth. 
                   I exchanged 
                    a few pleasantries with this man. Have you ever talked with 
                    someone to whom your instant reaction is like "Who is 
                    this? Is it possible that our lives parallel in any manner? 
                    Has he ever pro-created?" Our conversation essentially 
                    consisted of me finding out about the evolution of his farm 
                    operation to a trucking operation (because we all know farming's 
                    going to the dogs and it ain't no joke), the types of cargo 
                    it hauls around the country (he has two refrigerated trucks), 
                    and the geographic area covered by this mobile prowess. At 
                    this point I find out that he trucks all the way down to Laredo, 
                    way down on the border of Mexico with Texas. Now we're getting 
                    somewhere. This appeals to my Latina sensibilities. Is it 
                    possible that this man is really a diamond in the rough? Was 
                    my desire to moderately ignore this person's existence falsely 
                    fanned? 
                   He mentions cumbersome 
                    customs and export paperwork; I mention that I've worked with 
                    international shipments in the past. Now I couldn't help but 
                    throw that last part in there; it was one of the few comments 
                    he allowed me to enter sideways in this discussion. Unfortunately 
                    about three sentences later he starts mentioning "Yeah, 
                    I'll have to hire someone just to help with the paperwork 
                    pretty soon so's I can keep up with my other work!" About 
                    this time I thought that I was done with my gristle-laden 
                    nuggets and the subtle advances of this man. 
                   I got up to leave 
                    and threw away my trash, mumbling that it was good to talk 
                    to him (damn Nebraska politeness!), but that I'd best be going. 
                    "Well shoot," he said, shyly looking away from me 
                    to his truck highlighted against the black tar of McDonald's 
                    parking lot, "I was thinking that we could even get together 
                    sometime to talk about it more..."  
                   And then it got 
                    ugly. 
                   "No, I'm 
                    actually going to move in a couple weeks," I lied. 
                   "Where to?" 
                   "Out West." 
                   "Well shit. 
                    What you want to move there for? Just a bunch of niggers out 
                    there!" I spun away from him, walking to my car. I yelled 
                    over my shoulder that I didn't think it would bother me seeing 
                    as how some of my friends are black. He was sure that I would 
                    have a different opinion if I stayed out there for a significant 
                    amount of time.  
                   You know, 
                    sometimes you get to a point where you just don't want to 
                    even justify comments by responding. I had expressed my opinion 
                    on the subject. Besides injecting a little slice of my own 
                    worldview, what could influence an opinion in the brief time 
                    span spent in a parking lot under the golden arches?  
                   Pride. Kindness. 
                    Disgust. Seduction. Bigotry. Just another day at McDonald's. 
                  -fin- 
                    
                  
                    
                   
  |