March 31, 2005

McDonald’s Corporation
McDonald’s Plaza
Oak Brook, IL 60523

Dear McDonald’s:

On Tuesday I nonchalantly moseyed into your restaurant because my stomach needed fillin’. There was a guy behind the counter, Brian I think, who was totally apathetic and was about as interested in my order as I am interested in Native American fabric patterns (moderately). I told Brian (hereon referred to as “Employee X” to preserve confidentialityness) that I wanted a Big Mac (hereon referred to as “Sandwich X”) with lettuce and onions, NOTHING else. Apparently Employee X believed that “nothing else” referred to “please insert a pickle into my burger.” POLITELY, I repeated my request and asked him to remove said pickle. He instead disposed of the ENTIRE burger and had to tell Enrique to make a new one. Enrique made me a PICKLE DE-LITE. This consisted of my burger being infested with a colony of pickles. At this point I would have enjoyed strangling the young Brian, had my conscience not stopped me.

Then I asked to speak to his immediate supervisor. (I had to clarify to him that this was a “manager.”) The manager came over and I explained my situation. They made me a new sandwich. I removed the bun to reveal 1 official U.S. dill pickle. This is as appealing to me as a gravel casserole.

Then the people behind me start yelling at ME for holding up the line. Who was holding up the line? Not me.

So I ordered Chicken McNuggets and they were terrible. These things aren’t chicken. I bet you find road kill in a ditch and make nuggets from it.

With Superlative Concern,

Kevin Dickinson

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