McDonald's? Yes.

I worked at McDonald's. It's true. This isn't a trick. I'm not secretly talking about McDonald's Insurance or McDonald's Appraisal. I'm talking about McDonald's as in Big Macs and Happy Meals.

Training was held down in the basement of an old hotel. Video upon video was watched, we were sized for our uniform and speakers shared their motivational experiences. We were then herded out the doors with a positive perspective that somehow, we were now going to be making the world a better place just by getting drive through orders correct.

I arrived around 2:45pm for my first day of working in Ronald McDonald Land. I was pleasantly happy that my shift began in the late afternoon; allowing me to sit and wait for it all day long. After having the intensive training in the basement, I was ready. I knew what to do and I was eager to get started. I punched in by holding my time card just as I was shown and then headed up to the front counter. As soon as I stepped up to the hi-tech register, I was bombarded by McCustomers ready to eat. Carefully, I pressed in their orders and stared back at them through my McVisor to make sure they were finished. Their money was taken, change was counted back. I turned around and picked up their food, placed it on the tray and managed an artificial smile. So it went. Order after order. I was busy. Between orders, ketchup packets were to be stocked out front, tables wiped off, trays collected. But the real enjoyment didn't come until my 15 minute break. I watched in complete fascination as food was prepared. I watched as hamburger patties were squeezed and plopped out of a tube. Everything was down to a science. From the mustard pre-programmed to squeeze the perfect amount to the pickles which looked like carbon copies. Never before had I seen so many pickle slices that were the exact same shape and size. How is this possible? Have you ever seen hundreds of cucumbers that are the exact same size and shape? I examined as chicken nuggets were dunked into the fryer. I watched as french fries were salted in the very way we were shown on a VHS tape. "It's easy to get the perfect amount of salt on our french fries. Simply turn the salt shaker to pour out the salt while your arm moves to create a giant M!"

At the end of my break, I was assigned to work at the window. The McCrew did a great job of completely bagging the orders for me so that all I had to do was throw in the condiments and accessories to enjoy a great meal. I patiently watched as recipients of those stuffed brown bags rummaged through the contents to be sure I wasn't lying about what was in there. Sometimes I'd receive a preoccupied, "thanks", other times, nothing more than an eyebrow raise.

My shift was finally nearing the finish line. I was handed a McBroom and directed to the dining area to begin cleaning up. Once that task was finished, I wheeled out a bucket of stinky suds with a mop. I squeezed the mop out and plopped it on the floor. "People do this for years...." I thought to myself. Plop and mop. Plop and mop. I worked slowly and lost myself in thoughts of something better. I leaned on the mop handle as I watched a McCoworker empty the sloppy trash. "Let's get done so we can get out of here," my manager enthusiastically cheered. I plopped and mopped a bit faster as I imagined getting home and stepping into a hot shower to wash off the sin of the work day.

I arrived at work the very next day at the very same time. I punched in the same way, took orders the same way and watched the food preparation the same way on my same break time. My lips pierced together and my eyes wide, I giggled inside while watching the "chef" scratch his arm before grabbing a McBun. The pickles were still the same shape and fries were still salted in the shape of a giant 'M.' At the end of my long day of observation, I again plopped and mopped.

The third day I watched as the afternoon approached. My shift, as previously, began at 3 pm. 3'Oclock came and went. 4'Oclock. The phone rings and I smile as if I sell used cars and walk out the front door while it continues to ring. I had a great afternoon swimming and relaxing. When I finally check my messages, no questions were asked. I was instructed to bring in my uniform and pick up my paycheck. Early the next day, I walked into McDonald's with a slight smirk. A check was handed to me and I handed back my folded clothes. "Here's my costume," I said flatly.

I sat back in my car satisfied that I may now scratch "work in a fast food chain" off my list of things to try out. I opened my check. "$32.00!," I exclaimed. "Oh, KariAnn! What are you going to do with all that money?"