Hello and welcome, old friends. It’s been a while. So long, in fact, that you may be asking yourself what the occasion is. What momentous, life changing event has spurred me back here, to share my wisdom and general being-right-about-everything-ever-ness? Well, you’re in luck, because my misfortune is your gain. Have a look:
You may recognize what I am holding in my hand. It is a half-eaten McDonald’s Big Mac. If you look closely, you should be able to notice two things:
- Half-eaten food looks kind of disgusting, but half-eaten fast food looks especially disgusting.
- There is only one beef patty in this Big Mac.
Look closely. You will notice the arrangement, top to bottom, is bun-patty-bun-cheese-lettuce-bun. They forgot an entire beef patty. They somehow forgot fully 50% of what makes a Big Mac a Big Mac and not a cheeseburger with thousand island dressing on it.
What I find most puzzling about this is that there was cheese and lettuce between the bottom two buns, but no meat. It’s as if they skipped over that part of the assembly line when making this burger. Imagine taking a car home without half an engine (I think this actually happened to everyone who bought a Daewoo one year*)? You couldn’t, of course, but just imagine. It’d be terrible. This was terrible. This was my 1997 Daewoo Leganza.
Understandably, I was outraged. It happened on New Year’s Eve while I was working at the mall, and everything was definitely not sunny in Riverhead that day.
Hence, I have decided to draft a letter of complaint to McDonald’s in the hopes that I will receive suitable compensation, as I couldn’t think of a worse way to end my year than being shafted on an American classic. My letter follows.
Dear Sir or Madam,
I am contacting you and the McDonald’s Corporation with a grave complaint about food I recently received at one of your locations. I have been a life-long consumer of your meals and, as a recreational athlete, can speak for its role in turning me into the man I am today. I’m also a working man, and this past New Year’s Eve I was ensuring the gears of American Commerce remained well-oiled while others were out “planning parties” and “taking the day off because they have real jobs”. That day for my meal break I chose, as I’ve done many times before, to partake in your Big Mac as my preferred means of sustenance. I went back to our store’s break room, and with excitement I bit into my burger, but there was something uncanny about this particular Big Mac – and not in the cool, X-Men way. On second thought, you could say that this was the Jubilee of Big Macs: ill-conceived and unloved.
The problem, you see, was that this Big Mac was 50 percent the Big Mac it was meant to be. As you can clearly see in the attached photo, it was missing an entire meat patty. Now, I don’t want to come down on any of your employees – like I said, I’m a working man myself, and we all make mistakes. However, you can imagine my distress at receiving a sandwich that consisted of solidly 75% bread. Maybe if I had ordered a “Big Bread”, I would understand, but I didn’t. Also, please do not introduce a sandwich called the Big Bread.
Having only a 15 minute meal I obviously had nary an opportunity to go back to the Food Court and inform your employees of this oversight, so I soldiered on and finished this poor wounded burger off. I then toughed it out and worked the rest of my shift. However, it bears noting that my job pays only $9 an hour. I work hard for that money, and with the price of an extra value meal being what it is, it’s essentially worth an entire hour of work. Now, I’m normally willing to pay that much for satisfaction, but unfortunately on New Year’s Eve I only received half the satisfaction that I paid for. You could say that it’s hard to Protect This House™ with that kind of disappointment lingering over your day.
I hope that you and your company can address this situation. I plan to remain a loyal customer, as yours is the only burger establishment within walking distance, but I do reserve the option of switching permanently to wraps for lunch if this is not remedied.
Thank you for your time, I eagerly await your response.
I think that this letter gets the point across without being too nasty. What do you guys think?
Stay tuned for next time, when I’ll probably have a follow-up to this sad, pathetic story and some more good stuff. No, like, actually good, maybe.
* – Not actually true, as far as I know.