Monday, July 27, 2009

You've got to be kidding...

*** WARNING! This post contains language not suitable for anyone. If the F-bomb offends you, do not read...that is all ***

No, I'm not. It was a good weekend. I got to golf on Saturday and had sushi at the Wasabi Sushi Bar in E'ville - faboosh. Mr. Realist and our two friends had never had edamame before. I ordered an appetizer of it, and everyone loves it! Go Soybeans!

Early Saturday morning (2am), Mr. Realist's sister Erika had her baby. Aubree Marie, 7 lbs, 4 oz, 21" long, dark dark hair and blue eyes. Mr. Realist says she's beautiful (he went up and saw her yesterday). You might ask why I didn't go. There's a valid reason.

My sister and I had decided that we were taking Mom Dreamer to the Brickyard 400 this year for her 50th birthday (she turned on Friday the 24th). We got lost once in Indianapolis going to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway...and once on the way home. Damn directions. :) It was an awesome race. I'll be putting pics and video (hopefully) up on my FB page. The videos will probably be pretty loud, so watch the volume. We were on the short straight between curves three and four. No wrecks, only three yellow flags, and no wrecks. If you like NASCAR, live races are definitely better ... well ... live!

Seeing as how I wasn't going to get back until late, I took today off well in advance. Slept in until about 11am (Mr. Realist was out until about noon), lounged around, watched Shoot 'Em Up and The Wedding Singer (two of hubby's favorite movies), showered, and got ready for my ball game. We were playing the best team in the league this evening, and I think we beat ourselves before the game even started. I played shortstop today - made three catches to get the girl out, missed a couple (they were moving loads faster than I was). Got two hits the two at bats I had...left field just knew what the hell she was doing, so I was out. We lost... 20-something to nothing. *sigh*

Drove back home and stopped at McDonald's because I was jonesing for Chicken McNuggets. Pulled in (I wasn't the first up, so had to wait a bit), placed my order at 8.29pm. I pulled up, she took my money, and I pulled on to the next window. A tidbit about the first window - say 'thank you' or SOMETHING. Be pleasant - you have a job, right? A sucky one, yes, but you have a job. Anyway...second window hands me my Diet Dr. Pepper (yum) and asks me to pull up, that they've just dropped more nuggets (time frame from ordering to second window - about three minutes). I do. Pulled out my mobile and started playing solitare. I'd look up at the clock every now and then, and it really didn't register that I'd placed my order at 8.29, and it was now 8.45!

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I shut off my car, took my keys and the receipt in with me, and waited for someone to be free. Girl asks me if there was something wrong.
"Yes - should it really take almost 20 minutes for 10 nuggets?" I wasn't nice about it.
Her: "Hey X - did you take those nuggets out?"
X: "Huh? What nuggets?"
Her: "The 10-piece nuggets. She's been sitting out there waiting for them." X walks around to the front where my empty bag is sitting with the counter receipt in it.
X: "I need a 10-piece nugget!"
Me: "No, I just want my money back. I placed my order at 8.29, and it's almost 8.49. Shouldn't take 20 minutes to make these.

Now, at this point, you might say, "Mrs. Dreamer, it takes x time for the nuggets to cook." I get that. But when I walked in, I watched the guy making stuff behind the counter fill not one, but TWO 10-piece nugget boxes and slide them across to drive through. Not filling my bag, but someone else's who'd ordered long after me. I was getting righteously pissed off.

X: "What kind of sauce do you want for these?"
Me: "I don't want any sauce, I just want my money back."
Her: hollers at the manager: "You need to come up here, now please." Manager comes up. I have to explain to him...again...what happened. I'm doing fine - I didn't blow up at anyone, I didn't swear to anyone. He turns and tells the guy: "I need a 10-piece nugget, please - what sauce, ma'am?" I'm holding my tongue.
Me: "I don't want any nuggets, I don't want any sauce, I just want my money back so I can go get something to eat. This is ridiculous." He gives me my money back, and as I'm leaving, the words "Wendy's, here I come!" rather loudly as I walk out the door.

Are you fucking kidding me? Are you FUCKING kidding me? I don't want your fucking nuggets or your damned sauce. I want dinner, and you just lost out on my business.

I'm boycotting McDonald's for, at the very least, the next month - fuck you, MickeyD's. You won't be getting any more of my money any time soon.

Heepwah, and be safe out there,
A still very angry (yet satisfied, because I had a cheese & broccoli potato and a small Frosty from Wendy's - yummo)
Mrs. Dreamer


  1. Boo McDonald's! We hate them!

  2. Can I sue McDonald's for making me uber-pleasingly plump?? Fuckrs


Be safe out there.