humour

#547: The Redemption of the Worst McDonalds Ever

Getting More Tale #547: The Redemption of the Worst McDonalds Ever
The sequel to #536: Worst. McDonalds. EVER.

I’ve been visiting the “worst McDonalds ever” regularly in the past few weeks.  All McDonalds stores have been renovated since the 2006 disaster area we encountered in the last installment.  They’ve made a number of changes to their menu and how you order.

Where a typical McDonalds used to have a huge counter full of cash registers to order, now they have just one.  This is because they have switched over to an automated ordering/paying system using touch-screen kiosks.  You might think that removing the human element is a bad thing.  When it was first rolled out, it seemed things got slower.  Today is another story.

Using the former “worst McDonalds ever” as an example, service is now much faster and accurate.  You don’t have to get in line.  Just walk in and stroll up to a kiosk.  Follow the instructions on screen and touch what you want to order.  You can do it as a combo, and you can change sizes quite easily.  Making modifications is easy peasy.  The kiosk then reviews your order and asks you to confirm it.  Once this is done, you can either pay by debit or credit card right at the kiosk, or go to the cash register to pay.

The kiosk spits out your receipt with a number.  That number then appears on a big screen that says “now serving”.  Your number climbs to the top when your order is ready.  Usually this happens quickly.

It used to be the case that we didn’t like to get McDonalds “to go” because by the time you get back, the fries are cold.  Everybody knows McDonalds fries are best when they are piping hot.  Cold McDonalds fries just don’t cut it.  I am pleased to report that I can go to the former “worst McDonalds ever” and get back to the office in time with hot fries. My turnaround time is usually 15-20 minutes from door to door.  Additionally, my order has been right every time. It seems the new kiosk system has cut down on human error.

This is all just personal experience; I have been to a few of the new McDonalds and only had a bad experience once, in Ottawa, when the new system was first introduced.  That McDonalds was drowning in confusion and upset customers, including one who claimed this was the “worst McDonalds ever”.  That first time aside, food has been fast and accurate since.

What does this mean in terms of general retail?  Automated checkout is becoming more and more common.  As long as the speed and quality remain in good standing, this trend will continue.  It will probably not impact the music business very much.  Most people who go shopping in a music store go there partly because there are humans to interact with.  As long as music stores exist, so will manual checkouts.  Of course, many folks (myself included) buy a huge chunk of their music from online retailers.  However when we do visit a music store, we want a flesh and blood human being there.

Good for McDonalds for improving their service.  I think the music business will continue on its own path.

 

#546: Worst. McDonalds. EVER.

GETTING MORE TALE #546: Worst. McDonalds. EVER.

 

The year: 2006

The place: McDonalds, Hespeler Rd. Cambridge

 

I don’t consider myself a snobbish foodie.  Yes, I like to go out and have a lovely duck confit, or rosemary lamb chops.  However I’m not picky, I’ll eat almost anything, as my gut will attest to.  I saw Super Size Me, and I’ve ordered almost everything on the McMenu once.  McDonalds are usually pretty clean…but not always.  Some in fact were downright gross.  The worst one?  Even the pissy McD’s we visited near Flint Michigan could not compete with Cambridge Ontario on the gross scale.

I was out with Jen and her friends.  It was a late night of card playing, and I wanted to just head home, but I was outvoted by the other three.  The only place that was open that late was McDonalds.  I could always go for a Big Mac, so why not?

Upon entering, we debated leaving immediately, but there was nowhere to go.  If only I had a cell phone camera back then…the scene we witnessed was an apocalypse for the record books.  In the main eating area of the restaurant, food was all over the floor and tables.  Bits of burgers smooshed onto the floor.  Fries everywhere.  Ketchup, salt, containers…the entire area was a complete disaster.  It looked as if a bunch of highschool kids had just had a food fight and left (which is probably close to the truth).

One of the staff emerged from the back room with cleaning supplies.  He took one look at the main eating area and paused.

“Woah,” he said, and returned to the back room with his cleaning supplies, not to be seen again.

I guess the place wasn’t going to get cleaned up that night!  It sure didn’t look like a manager was working.

My buddy Craig, from 107.5 Dave Rocks, raises the “worst McDonalds ever” stakes with a tale of his own.  Unlike me, he has photographic proof.  It was in Milton, on highway 25.  He entered the restroom to find that a patron before him left an “inside the park home run”.  If you’re not familiar with the terminology, an “inside the park home run” in this case refers to someone taking a shit in a urinal.  There was no conceivable reason for anyone to leave a shit in the urinal.  Baffled, disgusted and nauseous, Craig snapped a photo and handed it over to the manager.  The manager responded by offering him his drink cup.

Pictures or it didn’t happen?  Do not, under any circumstances, click the link to the evidence.

This is your final warning.  Do. not. click. the link.

*** GRAPHIC *** Inside the park home run *** GRAPHIC ***

 

You don’t see that every day.  A home run for the record books.

What happened to my (not Craig’s) “worst McDonalds ever”?  Find out in the next chapter.

#545: It’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere

GETTING MORE TALE #545: It’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere

Back in the Record Store Days, 5:00 pm was when the “day” shift ended and the “night” shift began.  It was typical that the boss would call every day just before five to get the “five o’clock read”.  He wanted to see what the stores’ sales were each day at 5:00.  That tended to indicate if it would be a “good day” by the end of it or a “bad day”.

I discovered there was more to the daily 5:00 call than just sales.

The sly dual purpose was to make sure employees didn’t take off early.  The bosses could have asked anybody to do a “five o’clock read” but they usually asked for the managers (except when they were mad at/not speaking to the managers).  The cover was blown when the boss called Jonathan the accountant at five one day.

“I’m just calling to see how it is over there,” said the boss.

Jonathan was an accountant.  It’s always the same over there.

He came out to tell me.  “Man!  Can you believe they were checking to make sure I was still here?  They asked me ‘how it was going’ in the accounting office.  The accounting office!  You think it’s a coincidence he called right before five?  He was checking on me.”  He was pissed!

No early home time if you’re an accountant, or a store manager either!  I was busted leaving a few minutes early one Friday.  It didn’t matter that I showed up for work an hour and a half early.  That five minutes at the end was all they wanted to talk about.  I was given “the talk” and never once mentioned how the person giving me the talk was usually out well before five on a Friday.

Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky!

#544: Canned Corn

GETTING MORE TALE #544: Canned Corn

I know a big guy; let’s call him Herbert.  Nice guy, big and strong, and usually with the temperament of a kitten.

One morning Herbert had a big gash on his face, but all bandaged up.  He had clearly seen some kind of action and got medical attention.

“Holy crap Herbert!  What happened to you?” I asked incredulously.

“I had a disagreement with a person,” he deflected.

A “disagreement” with a person?  Could you get any more vague?

Eventually, the story got out of what really happened to Herbert’s face.

He was at a Giant Tiger store (a discount department store) and happened to see a young lady shopping that he felt was attractive.  He may have made a comment or given a look that the young lady’s boyfriend (much smaller than Herbert) didn’t like.  The little guy decided it was a good idea to get in Herbert’s face about it, and tried to lay him out with a punch.

The punch did nothing, and Herbert responded with a return blow that knocked the little guy down in one shot.

Next thing he knew, Herbert was lying on the ground with a bleeding head.  The girlfriend nailed him right in the face with a can of corn!  Knocked him right out.  By the time he came to, the little dude and his girl had taken off.  Herbert went and got himself stitched up, with only his ego damaged.

There was also a kid at the Record Store, Matt, who got caught rubbernecking.  Three girls were walking out of the store, and he leaned over the counter to get a good look.  The last of the three girls turned her head and caught him right in the act.

Lesson here:  We do not condone rubbernecking!  It’s rude and you’ll get hit in the head with a can of corn.  Boys and girls, I know you won’t listen to me, you’re going to look no matter what I say.  If you’re gonna steal a glance, at least do it stealthy.  Take it from the expert agents down at the CIA on American Dad….

“RUBBERNECKING” (lyrics)
From season 10, episode 17 – “Rubberneckers”

Dick: Rubbernecking is the art of checking out women on the sly.

Jackson: And if you do it right, you’ll never get caught!

McGee: Well, my name’s McGee and soon you’ll see,

If you want to rubberneck just listen to me,

‘Cause a peek don’t hurt,

If you want to scout skirt, you have to be covert,

Listen up, you squirt.

Jackson: Well, my name is Jackson, my techniques the purest,

When I want to scout girls I pretend I’m a tourist.

You look around like you’re super lost,

Hold up a map, now you’re peeking like a boss.

Stan: Yeah! I guess when I’m lost I do look everywhere!

Sanders: My name is Sanders and I don’t lie,

The best way to peek,

Say there’s something in your eye.

Stan: Wow, smooth!

Dick: Well, my name is “tiny” Dick and I have a little trick,

To look at a lady so she don’t think I’m shady.

I pretend that I’m dead and I lie on a gurney,

When the nurses come up, I do the “Weekend At Bernie’s”.

Jackson: Never forget women like to judge,

Go on, give that cattiness a nudge.

Dick: So tell your woman that you hate a girl,

And you can stare while all the hate unfurls.

Stan: Ugh, hey Francine, look at that terrible outfit.

Francine: Yeah, she looks like a hooker…hooker…hooker…hooker…

Sanders: When you want to take a look, hold up a book.

Jackson: A newspaper will do, to look at some boobs.

McGee: I think you’re ready to join the crew.

Everyone: Because you’re rubbernecking with the best,

Rubbernecking with the best.

Because you’re rubbernecking with the best,

Rubbernecking with the best.

stan

Part 255: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas [Reblog]

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

I thought it would be fun to re-post old  chapters of Record Store Tales that you may have missed. Enjoy this Holly-Jolly re-post!

 

RECORD STORE TALES Part 255: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

December 24th.  One of our busiest days of the year.  Not the busiest though – that would often fall on the last Saturday before Christmas, on the 23rd, or our annual Boxing Day sale on the 26th.  Nearly two months of buildup and hard work, and it’s all over in what feels like a blink!

The 24th could sometimes be a fun day to work.  Not all customers were your typical cranky shopper, although we certainly saw those too.  Many of our Christmas Eve customers were simply killing time.  Some were spending their Christmas money a little bit early.  Some didn’t care what day it was, particularly those who came in to sell CDs for cash.

Yes, many people did come in to sell even on Christmas Eve.  A few were looking for credit to buy gifts, some were just looking for money to buy a Christmas dime bag.  Either way it was always a busy day, and we were kept moving on our feet.  Many dollars exchanged hands on the 24th.

I recall Christmas music was in such demand that a few years I was left with 4 or 5 Christmas CDs left in stock.  Often these would be the ones that always sat, year after year, unwanted, unsold.  As a person who’s never liked Christmas music, I could never understand the NEED to have it, just to listen to it once a year.  To me, that’s what the radio was for.  But I wasn’t there to try to analyze the wants and desires of the people.  My job was to sell them whatever crap we had left.

The 24th was a messy day.  Usually you could count on snow getting tracked in on the carpets (which were only cleaned a few weeks prior – why??).  Also, most customers could not seem to put discs back where they found them.  This was a combination of poor shelf design, customers who didn’t give a shit, parents that don’t watch their children as they tear the store apart, and people who didn’t know the alphabet.  Discs would be everywhere by the end of it all, scattered hither and yon, with no rhyme or reason as to why they were left there.

I always wore a suit and tie on Christmas Eve.  This was a tradition begun by the boss and owner in the early 1990’s, but I was the only one who carried on this tradition.  The first time we did the suits T-Rev said, “I like it, it makes me feel important!”  People do treat you a little differently when you’re wearing a tie.

After all the rushes of customers died down, we’d start hanging the signs in preparation for the big Boxing Day sale on the 26th.  Buy 3 Get 1 Free!  Or something like that.  Not good with any other special offers though, so people would have something to bitch about.  “Why can’t you stamp my card too?”  Etc. etc.

One year (’96 or ’97) after close at 6 pm, the boss told me to stay late and help him hang these signs.  They were big banners for our Boxing Day sale.  He climbed a ladder to clip these huge hanging signs from the ceiling.  I was there on the floor in my tie trying to hold the sign aloft as he worked.  Then he dropped a clip to the ground and we couldn’t see where it landed.  And apparently we didn’t have any spares.

On hands and knees I searched and searched.  We even got out a flashlight to try to find the damned thing.  No luck!  Meanwhile the clock ticked and ticked.  6:30.  6:45.  7:00.  The parking lot outside was quickly resembling a frozen ghost town, as people raced home to begin their own festivities.

Just as I found the damn clip on the ground, the phone rang.  Normally I wouldn’t answer the phone this late after close on Christmas Eve, but my boss answered, and it was my mom.

“When are you sending my son home to enjoy his Christmas Eve dinner with his family?” she chided.

“Oh I’m sorry Mrs. Ladano!” my boss responded.  “We’re almost done.  You’ll have him soon.”

I think if my mom hadn’t called, we would have been there all night hanging those stupid signs!

At home there was plenty of hot food to enjoy, as I let my body relax after a long day of serious hard work.  Thankfully I did not have to work Boxing Day, probably the longest most tiring day of the whole year.  I therefore had two whole days to relax, watch movies, and spend time with the family.

On that note, I wish all of you a Merry  Christmas.  Whether you celebrate the holiday or not, be safe and warm this season.  And most important I hope you all make it home on time and don’t have to stay late hanging signs!

 

 

#534: Klassic Kwote – “b4-4”

GETTING MORE TALE #534: Klassic Kwote – “b4-4”

Unfortunate Canadians will recall boy band b4-4 (also known as Before Four). They were a trio, had two brothers in the group, made two albums and faded away quietly.

Courtesy of former store owner (now road manager for Steve Earle) Mike Lukacs, here’s a classic quote that shoulda been in Record Store Tales:

“Back in the record store days, some people came in the store looking for these guys’ CD. One of the dudes that worked for me asked them why they wanted such garbage. ‘They are our sons’ replied the people…”

Whoops!

b44

#528.5: Klassik Kwote of the day – “Side Project”

The Foo Fighters took a break in 2001.  Their new album, to come later as One By One, was not going well.  The band were infighting, and the album was put on hold.  Around that time, Josh Homme hooked up with his old buddy Dave Grohl and invited him to play on the new Queens of the Stone Age album.  Dave was growing wearing of frontman duties in his own band and was happy to just be a drummer again for a little while.

The resultant QOTSA album, Songs for the Deaf, was a smash hit.  Dave Grohl’s presence brought them a higher profile than before, but it was also just a flat-out kick ass record.

One of our store managers, Joe “Big Nose” was a Queens of the Stone Age fan going back to Kyuss.  Though I was not there personally when this happened, Joe likely had an internal meltdown when a customer asked:

“Hey, do you have that new side project of Dave Grohl from Foo Fighters?”

I bet there was steam coming out of Joe’s ears!

#509: Rant Random

WHAT GRINDS MY GEARS

GETTING MORE TALE #509: Rant Random*

Journaling is a gift that keeps on giving.  I’m so glad that I decided to document my years at the Record Store.  Even when I think the well is dry, I keep finding little tiny flakes of gold.  I’ve collected four retail rants from back in the day for your edification.

Date: 2004/05/03

Manners? This guy was just standing in front of me, burped three times, and smelled of pepperoni when he did. It was so gross I felt like I had to puke.

Date: 2004/05/18

I have decided that I want to work at the Money Mart next door. All they ever seem to do is take breaks! The one girl, she’s on her second smoke break in one hour!**

Date: 2004/06/02

You know you’re stupid when…
You pay for a neon sign to be made that is grammatically incorrect!
I was just walking past Angel’s Diner, who advertize that they have “The best rib’s in town!” Yikes!

Date: 2004/06/21

The last thing I needed to see today was an older couple purchasing a CD about tantric sex.

 

* Title inspired by XM radio DJ Grant Random

** I noticed this because I had a bit of a crush on her, as noted in Record Store Tales Part 170.  Not a creepy crush though I swear.

#506: I’m Eighteen

This summer is just burning by. This week, we’re burning through five more chapters of Record Store Tales MkII: Getting More Tale!

GETTING MORE TALE #506: I’m Eighteen

The old Record Store was 95% used CDs, bought from the general public.  Like any store selling second hand goods bought pawn-style from walk-ins, we were regulated.  As discussed in Record Store Tales Part 254: You Don’t Need to See My Identification, if you wanted to sell your shit to me, you had to present to me a government issued photo ID.  That’s the law, and I was the sheriff, so show me your damned ID or you don’t get to sell your stolen CDs for weed money, got it!?  It’s not like we were taking IDs just for fun.  The cops really did go over our records (Record Store Tales Part 309: Penmanship), and every once in a while this would result in them catching a thief (Record Store Tales Part 307:  Court).  It was tedious but necessary work.

Part of the law regulating how we went about our business stated that you had to be 18 years or older in order to pawn stuff.  People would complain.  “But they’re just CDs, it’s not like I’m selling you a stolen television.”  Yeah, but the laws don’t differentiate between you selling a TV, a Garth Brooks CD with a cracked case, or an X-Box.  Some customers had a hard time grasping this concept.

To save yourself work, it was always advisable to ask a young-looking customer if they were 18 or older before you started going over their CDs.  If they weren’t 18, you’d ask them to come back with a parent.

Here are some responses from customers who were asked if they were 18:

1. “But I’ll be 18 next week!”  OK, then come back next week.  You can’t vote if you turn 18 “next week”.

2. “Can you call my mom? She’ll tell you I can sell these.” No, you call your mom, and get her in here with her ID.

3. “Did you know it’s illegal to ask someone their age?” Uhh.

4. Several kids just went outside and asked strangers to sell their stuff for them, just like kids trying to get an adult to buy them liquor. Sometimes people would do it. Not exactly the wisest choice. If those CDs were stolen, guess who’s name is attached to them now?

5. You’d get the inevitable people who are flattered that you thought they were that young. “Thanks for the compliment!” Well, you’re very welcome!

The kid that really pissed me off (and this only happened once) was the kid who lied to me about his age before I went ahead and priced all his CDs. He had a lot of stuff, DVDs too, and it took a lot of time and work to go through and price them all. I checked each and every one for quality, I looked them all up in inventory, and I organised them according to value. I made the offer, the kid accepted it, and then I asked him for a piece of his ID.

And then I saw he was only 17.

I was pissed and I didn’t try to hide that. I had wasted all that time going through his shit that he couldn’t even sell, because he lied about his age.

That kid would be in his early 30’s today. I hope he learned to stop being a lying ass!

Picture 12

#501: Free Personality Test

GETTING MORE TALE #501: Free Personality Test

There are very few experiences in the world quite as trying as being forced to listen to a captive audience religious lecture at work.  Now why would that happen?  Well shit; in retail it happens all the time!

At the Record Store, I worked alone most of the time.  Most of us did; we only staffed one person on duty for most of the day, from 10-5, for many years.  This led to a number of inconveniences such as trying to find a moment to eat a lunch or take a wizz.  Everybody dealt with it in their own ways; my way usually involved eating less lunch and more junk food, and getting really good at “holding it” for hours at a time.

But we weren’t busy all of the time.  There were long stretches of…not boredom, but different kinds of work, when the store was slow and empty.  Cleaning, balancing books, organising, doing inventory, taking annoying phone calls from higher-ups asking if the store was busy yet (and then somehow implying it’s your fault because “Cambridge is really busy right now”)…there was always lots to do!  Unfortunately when you were alone at the store, you could sometimes get cornered by a talky customer for long periods of time.

The worst of these “conversations” (not really because they were usually one-sided) were the religious lectures.  These were rare.  I don’t want to mis-represent the situation. These religious lectures didn’t happen every day.  But every once in a while, you would get cornered by somebody who just wants to tell you all about Jesus.

Yes, Jesus.  I was never bothered by atheists, Muslims, Hindus or Wiccans.  It was only the Christians, and only certain varieties of them, that wanted to tell you about their faith.  I have nothing against any religions; I am a Christian myself but I consider this a somewhat personal journey.  I really hate when people get my back up lecturing me about their faith.  I like talking, not being lectured, and not at work!  I’m trapped there; I don’t have an escape route.  I don’t think this is an unreasonable pet peeve.  But it happened.  I’ve been handed Watchtower pamphlets, been invited to church services, and been told the music that was playing was satanic.

My strategy was “nod and smile”:  Trying not to say too much, trying to get it overwith, and praying to my own Lord and saviour for the phone to ring so I could exit. You may think to yourself, “Well why not just tell the person you’re not interested?”  Because they are used to hearing that and have answers to everything.

The religious solicitation at work continues today but with new methods.  And there is only one church soliciting me today.

It started with the faxes in 2013:  “Come to lunch at the Church of Scientology”.  They were arriving weekly, the faxes, shortly after the new church opened in town.  We joked about going; apparently they had a cafeteria that served lunch.  We were getting sick of all the Wendy’s, McDonalds, and Burger Kings in town, but it never progressed further than joking.   “Wouldn’t it be funny if…?”  Even though they are open seven days a week during the day, the place always looked ominously deserted.  It is mere walking distance from where I work today.

This week, I got my first Scientology invitation at home.  It came in the guise of an offer for a “Free Personality Test” in my mailbox.  It’s a “limited time” offer only (I’m pretty sure that’s false) and takes just one hour.  It’ll help me improve my happiness and success in life.  On the front it says “Oxford Capacity Analysis” (a nonsense phrase unrelated to Oxford university, designed to sound smart), and has graphs inside showing…something?  The numbers on the axes aren’t explained.  Only when you turn to the very back do you see who is offering this “Free Personality Test”, and yes, it’s the local Church of Travolta.

I find all of these tactics very cunning and shifty.  In all these situations, they are coming at the target (me/us) with an advantage.  I was cornered at work at the Record Store, putting me in a situation where it’s hard to escape the lecture.  Today they send out these enticing booklets and invitations without being truthful about who they are until the last page.  There’s something un-trustworthy about that.

Free personality test?  Remember folks — nothing’s free.