01 24 00

complaint time

I have two things to complain about today.

The Cookie Thing

It's Girl Scout cookie time and I have a major problem.

What is up with the cookies?

Every year the cookies get smaller. For a while I thought that I was just getting bigger, so the cookies seemed smaller. (You know, like how the drinking fountains at your old elementary school seem waaaaay lower than they used to be.) But they are definitely smaller.

I usually only order two kinds of cookies: the Thin Mints (of course) and the Caramel deLites (they used to be called Samoas.) I'm not as familiar with the other types of cookies because these are the only two I really like enough to order.

The Thin Mints have gotten smaller over the years, I'm sure. They still give you the same number, which is a good thing or else they would have a riot on their hands.

It's the Samoas that I have a major problem with. They have definitely gotten smaller. I think the biggest shrink in size was when they changed the name from Samoa to Caramel deLite. But that's not even my biggest complaint. They have seriously reduced the number of cookies you get.

You used to get a nice big box of cookies, with about 20 or so cookies. Now you just get a slim box, with only 14 tiny cookies in it. What's up with that? They made a big deal about how the cookies are still "only" $2.50 a box, but you're getting less for your money.

I'm not happy about this.

I used to be a Girl Scout, so I feel a bit of duty to buy some cookies from someone. But if this shrinkage keeps up I'll look elsewhere for cookies. Store bough substitutes are usually cheaper, and they are available year-round for those mid-summer cookie cravings. Keebler makes a pretty good Thin Mint substitute called Grasshoppers, and they go for about $1.50 a box, and you get a ton of cookies. I'm still looking for a suitable Caramel deLite substitute.

The Pickle Thing

I hate pickles.

No, I really hate pickles. I don't even like a pickle being on the same plate as my food. When I go to a restaurant I specifically ask that they don't put a pickle spear on my plate. The juice would run into the sandwich or the fries and get them all pickle-juicy. Yeech.

But let me sidetrack for a minute here.

There's a McDonald's that was ripped down and rebuilt very close to here. The old building was pretty old, and the new one is all modern and stuff. Also, in the old design you had to pull across four lanes of traffic to go left, and there were lots of accidents there. When they rebuilt, they added a second driveway that comes out on an adjacent street, so you can make a left turn at a light instead.

Unfortunately, this new driveway is right next to an elementary school. (The one where I went to school, actually.) Lots of kids walking home have to cross the driveway, and parents freaked out. "Little Johnny's going to get hit by a car!" they complained.

So the parents got this whole thing taken to City Hall. McDonald's agreed to hire a crossing guard specifically to walk kids across this 12-foot wide driveway before and after school. They also put up big signs warning drivers to watch for kids, and painted big yellow lines across the driveway to warn incoming drivers to slow down. This was all terribly magnanimous of them, I thought.

But the parents still weren't happy. They started making "Boycott McDonald's" signs to put in their lawns. And every morning and afternoon, when the kids are walking to and from school, there are parents with picket signs standing outside the restaurant.

This is so stupid. There is a crossing guard, hired by McDonald's, to walk these kids across that little driveway. What the hell do these parents want? For McDonald's to rip up the driveway? I'm sorry, but I just can't see that happening.

Anyway, back to the pickles.

I went to this particular McDonald's for lunch today, and the parents were out picketing. I ignored them and went through the drive-thru. I ordered a Big Mac extra value meal. I specifically said, "No pickles," to the worker. I got my food and peeked in the bag. On the Big Mac box was a grill slip (a piece of paper they attach to something made special) that said:

All set, right?

I got back to work, opened the box, and I could smell the pickles. I looked under the bun and sure enough - three pickles were looking back at me. What the fuck.

This is the third time this has happened to me at that McDonald's. And you know the third time's the charm. I called the restaurant.

"Look, I've only been to your restaurant three times since it's reopened, and all three times my order's been screwed up."

"Is there a grill slip?" asked the manager.

"Yep, and it says, 'No Pickles.' But there are three pickles on my burger."

"Gee, I'm really sorry about that. I can take your name and number." So I gave him my name and work number. "You can come in later today and get another burger."

"I can't come in today," I said. "I only have a 20 minute lunch break and I spent it all driving to and from your place. I can't leave again to get a burger."

The manager made some weird noise in her throat. "OK, then you can come back later tonight."

"Look, I get off work at 8pm, and I'm not going to want a burger that late. I only eat there once a month or so."

"Oh, sorry. I'll keep your complain on file though."

For all the good that will do me, I'm sure.

So I'm boycotting this McDonald's. Not because of the driveway, but because they can't read their own fucking grill slips.

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