Corporate Slave

Bear with me, mates. I'm getting the gist of how the CSS template handles so you'll have to go with the auto-template-flow until tomorrow or even the next day.

McDonalds has turned me into a jaded, vindictive narcissist. I see that sickly smiling clown in the face of my manager, who sugarcoats everything and glues his lips to people’s asses thinking that'll keep the store afloat. Who am I kidding, isn't that 65% of the fast food industries manager population? Kiss the customers ass. Kiss the corporate agencies ass. Slather the customer in sympathy because they've been sitting in their car for three minutes behind six other cars waiting to greedily snatch their food out of our out held grasp. Oh, no! We've wasted three minutes of your precious life where you could have been sitting on the toilet taking a well-earned crap.

Don't get me wrong. Some of them are exceedingly pleasant. I don't hate the customer. I'm not like my sibling brother who was thrust into the grill area far sooner than normal because of his anti-customer policy. I willingly smile for them. I chirp merrily and fawn over their every need because it's second nature for me to be amiable. I guess you could say I bend over and take it in unhappy places so that they'll be able to come out of it saying they’re satisfied with their McDonalds experience, but that's part of fast-food employment. You sign up for it, boys and girls. The reward for being anally raped is 50% off artery-clogging food and bright, shining minimum wage.

And that's all I have for you today.