McFamily

     I have not written much about my time working for McDonald's. It was my first job that I got in the summer of 2002. For five years I was "McDonaldized" into moving fast for people who, for the most part, looked down on us. There were some good customers. There was a sweet lady who would order coffee every day and leave candy for us. Another tipped me by putting cash in my chest pocket. It was well-managed for a few years, which is one of the reasons I stayed. But in 2007, after management changed, it got a little too crazy and I called it quits. It was getting bad for my health.

    What also kept me around so long were the relationships I built. Almost everyone on the team was courteous, respectful, affectionate, and made working there fun. It was like a nexus that gravitated good people to its epicenter, which unfortunately was one of the busiest stores in the state. That may have put a hamper on deep social development, but it also brought out the best in us, the wild part that relished in suffering for each other, and for the good of the team. Great challenges often do this to teams; they make them stronger.

    Of course, I can't dismiss the fact that for the first time, I was getting a lot of attention from women. Most of the ladies who worked there were Mexican immigrants, but even the American girls took interest. I had lost a lot of weight between starting there and the "peak years". They would call me carino (caring one) and make flirtatious gestures. Some were more aggressive than others. One girl grabbed my shoulders wanting attention; I pushed her away. She quit shortly after. Others would creep me out by leering inappropriately, and their age didn't matter. There was an older woman, about 50, who would do it all the time; and another who was younger than me, but her uncomfortable staring was far more provocative.

    Word got out they were all in love with me, and it was fairly obvious. I was young, dashing, generous, saw things before they happened, helped whenever needed. Funny in an innocent, goofy manner. They loved how I would try to communicate in broken Spanish; I think for some of them, our crew provided the only environment where Americans could really listen to them.

    Early on I had three crushes: Gloria, Hildamar, and Dulce. None of them spoke English well, but it didn't matter. They were each charming in their own way. Gloria was beautiful, Hildamar had a voice that sounded like church bells, Dulce was small and quick as a hummingbird. None of them were interested in me until I became important to the team a year later.

    There was Ivonne, the first to show interest. Though she wasn't the prettiest, she had the best sense of humor. She wanted to live with me, saying she loved me every few days in that adorable droll. Eventually she gave up.

    Faviola was a spirited ball of joy who called me "crispy". I drove her home once and she invited me inside for sex. I couldn't believe it. It was the last thing on my mind.

    The ones who called me carino were Mercedes, Sylvia, and Areli. All spoke very little English and worked in the grill. I believe they were single and looking for ways to get a green card. Sylvia in particular would force an awkward smile whenever she saw me, hoping to capture my heart. Once she got pregnant, she stopped.

    There was Edith, who stuck her tongue out at me whenever we made eye contact. I'm not even going to entertain what that was about, but she was gorgeous. Did not know a word of English.

    Others in the grill were Martha, an older woman who called me a beautiful boy. And Isabela, who never said a word to me, but followed me on Facebook years later and liked every single post. And another one whose name escapes me. I used to close with her, but we also never spoke. She'd often look nervous around me. There was another Areli who really liked me. She stopped talking to me after I threw a penny in her direction for rushing me on drive thru orders. I regret snapping like that. 

    Among the girls who spoke full English, there was Angelica; the first girl I "dated", who claimed to be a lesbian but had secret yearnings. I took her to the park, the bookstore, and home where we played Scrabble. Nothing became of it. The best thing I did for her was restore faith in men, or the tape I made for her that had Neutral Milk Hotel, Birthday Massacre, and Sigur Ros. She had a sister named Maria who once compared me to Leonardo di Caprio. I must have looked like a movie star to most these girls (while in high school they wouldn't even talk to me). Maria was the one with the uncomfortable stare that gave me fits.

    There was Kim, who was very quiet. Her own mom said she had a crush on me. I kept waiting for her to say something that never materialized. She married another guy who worked there and they had kids.

    Ana was a devilish vixen who had the store manager hooked on her charms, giving her a license to severely slack off. I made her cry once when I called her out on it: "you're not fooling anyone". She mocked me for days after that. She would say things like "rock out with your cock out" so I'm pretty sure that was a sign.

    Diana. Where to start with Diana. It got to the point where every time I was around her, she'd moan my name, desperately, like she was begging me to sweep her off her feet. She liked to playfully bump into me on "accident". Though it bothered me sometimes, it never got excessive. Her mom is the older woman who'd look at me weird.

    Namita was a mature manager for her age. Once I accidentally brushed her breast as she was giving me a bag, which we both ignored. I think I would have dated her if her parents hadn't forbidden her to date anyone who wasn't Indian.

    And finally, there was Crystal, another manager. She was the first woman to take me on a date, who sent a drunken Myspace message saying she wanted me. Nothing came of that either. I suppose I was quite the heartbreaker without really knowing it.

    The guys were a riot. Among the Mexicans there was Ramon, who would call me "wife" at random moments. I didn't understand it at first. It's probably because I looked like a pretty boy. They would all laugh whenever he said that. Alejandro was the fastest but didn't look happy there. I wish he'd stayed longer. The Diaz brothers cracked jokes all the time and swore profusely. I can understand Spanish profanity because of them. Santos liked to arm wrestle. Ruben always had the same position at front of assembly because he was so good at it. Abel was always horny, alerting everyone to pretty female customers at the counter.

    Ruben didn't like me at first, along with Mario and a maintenance guy. Mario knew me from high school, and he knew English. The maintenance guy was angry, probably on steroids. He also challenged me to arm wrestle, but not before warming up to me. These guys would talk shit to me for a year before realizing it was futile; since I knew their profanity, I'd always return a disparaging remark with my own, being sure to include a smile to ease the tension. We didn't really become friends, but we didn't hate each other either.

    Victor the intellectual always commented on how busy the store was. We'd get paired in drive thru for the lunch rush a lot. We chatted on MSN for a bit but stopped after I showed him a porn site. It's not that he was upset, he just stopped talking to me. I think he may have been religious. Because of that I never share porn and don't even watch it anymore. Youth...

    My two best friends in that era were Bobby and Mike. Both were managers who transferred there after I started. Bob was a perfect teenage caricature of what anyone would imagine in a young McDonald's fanatic. He looked like "The Sherminator" from American Pie, one of the many tens of millions of Eminem clones with white suburban short hair. He would panic easily, making questionable decisions when managing the floor; and his voice would crack like he was still going through puberty, even after turning 20. So, it came easy for Mike and I to mock him, and he took it well anyway. Mike was more down-to-earth and goofier than Bob, but similarly a boy trapped in a man's body. I would close with Mike on Friday nights, and we'd shout random things like "plus tonight!" This was a sarcastic inside joke between us, because the sales projection was always lower than what actually happened. We'd always get screwed with low labor because the morning manager "needed more bodies". It was a terrible imbalance, but we thrived on the chaos.

    Another manager I loved was JT. Things were always stable when he was in charge. He was quick like a karate master and usually made the right decision. He had a way of motivating people to go faster, saying things like "I hope you brought your running shoes".

    I had another inside joke with a guy named Chet. One time it was so busy that I casually mentioned, "This place is down". Well, he smiled and started saying it every time we were together and it got busy. Maybe we started a new idiom with that one.

    The most similar crew member to me was Jesse, a very flexible worker who knew all the positions. He was also a manager in training, staying at it longer than me. We sure did argue a lot. He didn't like that I wasn't dedicating my career into McDonald's.

    The person who brought everyone together, the ringleader of that circus, was none other than John F., a more mature, adult version of Bobby. He pretty much built that team as store manager, and was there for almost my entire tenure. What I remember most about John was how much he'd talk despite being so behind on everything. I couldn't believe how a store manager could do that and be so successful. One time he burned 10 minutes by showing me footage on security camera of me spilling shake mix all over the floor. He really laughed it up with other people watching. 

    John created the kind of environment that Michael Scott did on The Office. It wasn't always safe, it wasn't always comfortable. But for most of us, it made working fun. For the lucky few like me, who had a dysfunctional home life, it created a second family environment at work, one where you could be yourself and still get the job done. I'm fortunate to have worked under such an example of unhinged leadership.