Start at 17k per annum as a trainee, rising to 26k as a manager. Longish hours (as it is anywhere in Catering), and yes, you have to talk to Joe P, and shoulder the sniggers of Chavs with their "you wouldn't get me and Shaz (short for "Shardonnay") working in a scummy place like this, oh yeah and a McFlurry and extra fries with my Big Mac gutbuster meal, yeah the social's paying for it" Scum! However it's more than an SAC gets and you don't get sent to Basrah every few months to get shot at (unless you work in the Solihull branch or anywhere the Yardie gangs hang out). Is that the sound of feet marching in the direction of the nearest MaccyD recruiters. Picture the scene:
A Market square somewhere in "Little England". Kids playing on a swing hanging from a centuries old oak tree, fishing in the stream for tiddlers with a bent pin on a bit of string, playing hoopla and riding around on an old butchers bike. Suddenly theres the "rat-a-tat-tat" of a stick on cowhide and the sound of penny whistles playing "doo doo doodoodooooooo, I'm lovin'it". Round the corner comes a group of men in brightly coloured jackets and hats, marching briskly in step playing a gay tune and singing of being one of Ronald's men. The kids laugh, clap their hands and skip along behind them. The McDonalders come to a brisk halt in the square and the recruiting Sgt, clad in is finest candy striped suit, red wig proudly on his head, looks down his matching red nose and with a twinkle in his eye, he speaks.
"Now then me lucky lads, you look to be up for a bit of excitement and travel, have you ever thought of joining McDonald's "
Silence reigns until a nervous voice pipes up "What have you got on offer?"
"Ah" says the recruiter, "at the moment if you buy a McMuffin meal before 9:30am you get a free coffee"
"No" says the bravest of the young lads "he means what can you offer us in the way of excitement and pay"
Knowing that he has a bite the recruiter smiles to himself, "well my clever little rapscallion, I can see you've got the measure of this old McDonalder, let me tell you what we can do"
"First" says he" We fixes you up with nice uniform, waistcoat, bow tie, cap, so nice you'll be beating the ladies off with a McSandwich. Then we gives you the best training you'll ever get, Griddling, Frying, "Flipping the buns" the dark art of salad construction and of course pickle slicing!" The crowd stare at him open jawed, these are indeed skill's that can't be bought. "Those of you who show an aptitude will be encouraged to mix thick shakes and swirl the McFlurrys, but...." at this point he leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper "you special cases will be passed on for Trainee manager training". There is a small gasp from the crowd (and a small squeek from the only girl there) You will be responsible for the deliverys, the orders, overseeing the griddle and fryer, counting money, sweeping the mess up so customers don't fall and sue the company. You will start on the princly sum of 17k a year and your uniform will include a gold badge with the words "Hi my name is (insert name here)" Once you have proved you can handle the Chavs, the Crusties and the "Meat is Murder" terrorist organisation you will then move on to general manager and take full control, including hiring and firing, yes you will have control of peoples soul's, you will be the face of the organisation, the man!"
There is a pause, then the brave lad pipes up, "what about sexual harrasment charges from the female staff"
"Don't worry about that me lucky lad, we'll look after you if any minimum wage earning, migrant worker complains when you give her a friendly pat on the backside"
"I hear some of the meat used is not exactly out of the best cattle" comes from the same lad.
The recruiter grits his teeth, his eyes flash, "let me tell you me laddo, our beef comes from sustainable herds fed only the finest corn and hay, then, whilst we play soothing whale noises it is humanly killed by a Ninja neck pinch during which it feels no pain!"
He looks around, he has already spotted 3 potential recruits at least one of them management material. He points at one of them "Whats your degree in then son, media studies is it?" Amazed and dumbfounded, the lad nods his head "thought so, you're just what we are looking for to be a manager" "Ha! he thinks, spot a media studies student anywhere by the eighties haircut, slack jawed dribble and the calluses on his thumb from the playstation."
Correct in his assessment, he gets three new McDonalders, two griddle monkeys (including the squeeky girl) and the media studies student. They take the 99p double cheeseburger from the drum and are marched swiftly to McDonald college by the hamburglers.
Before he departs the recruiting Sgt gazes around and catches the eye of the young lad who asked all the questions, he is met by flint like eyes that flash fire, "You've served then?" he says "Aye" answer the young lad, "Trainee manager, St Pauls in Bristol, 2 robberies, 3 drive by shootings and an arson attack by the Veggie popular front". The recruiter raises and eyebrow, impressed "and now?" "Well" answers the young lad "I thought ferk that for a game of fryers, so I joined to Fire Brigade, 2 days, 2 nights, 5 off, excellent volleyball skills and the chance to go on strike"
The Recruiter nods sagely "good choice son, good choice"
