2 /5 Emily Pratt Slatin: I came in for a quiet lunch, which wasn’t hard to achieve since I was the only customer in the dining room. No rush, no lines—just me, my hunger, and a self-service kiosk that, for some reason, insisted I provide a table number. Fine, I thought. I picked 101, the table literally right in front of the counter. Seemed logical.
But logic has no place here.
A few minutes later, the employees emerged, parading my tray of food around the empty restaurant like they were playing a real-life game of Where’s Waldo, until one of them finally came to my table and snapped:
“Miss, you’re wasting our time.”
Oh, am I? Am I the problem here? Because if I recall correctly, I’ve been sitting here—completely visible—since before my food even existed. Only at McDonald’s could a game of Where’s Waldo: Solo Edition break out with one person in the building.
Food was okay, but I won’t be back.