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I wrote this during my eleven month employment at greasy, gritty, grimy McDonalds:

Log of the Disgruntled Worker

Upon entering its golden arches,

The smell of grease swiftly rises on the air

Walking passed the rows of empty tables

To the manager’s red eyed stare

Back behind the counter

Where the disgruntled workers relay

Wanting to get out of the filth

Money bounding them to stay

Passed the loud cling clang

Of the employees in the grill

To the all mighty time clock

Under a board, saying not to eat their fill

My number punched in

Its time to whine

Back to the counter

Where others leisurely dine

I enter my work of damnation

The gluttony that burns them all in hell

Looking at the space left behind

Where many a drink had fell

Coffee, Sprite, Coke

The stains of fat sublime

Taking a rag to the spills

To clean the dirt and grime

The conveyor belt sounds

Signaling another car

‘Hurry! Under 90 seconds!’

‘He isn’t too far!’

Readying the napkins, ketchup, and salt

The condiments that lead to their demise

But the real joke is on them

They are in for a big surprise

The lettuce was on the floor

The mustard’s two months old

Just rack ‘em up, stack the meat

It’s out the window and sold

Cars run through, passed me

More grease out the window

From inside the prison

Where tension and anxiety soon grow

Working our tails off

For pennies on the hour

‘Please sir, with the nuggets

I need Sweet and Sour’

I’ll give you your sauces

But give me the money

It’s 15 cents extra

For that little drop of honey

Old people, young people

all of ‘em come through

The jocks, the Goths, the workaholics

Doesn’t matter who

All of ‘em love the arches

A mystery to me

Handing them their heart attacks

They smile full of glee

‘Go on you break’ the manager commands

‘Start your half hour of freedom now’

What do I get, the same grease that I give out?

I sure don’t want to look like those cows

Back on the clock

No more than ten minutes late

If I were to be back late

A write up and I would surely have a date

Write up! Write up!

Can everyone say it with me

Be punctual and mind your manners

That’s truly the key

Back to the booth from hell

The day slowly turns to night

Handing out the bloodstained carcasses

Of which all the customers want a bite

The clock strikes one hour

That’s all that has passed?

Let us have some fun

So this shift can fly by fast

Serving the orders

One by one

Making the stock lists

Now that is fun

Oh what a demeaning job

My months here have been the worst yet

My low pay at McDonalds

The worst fate I have ever met


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