What Are You Really Getting? :
The Truth on a Fast Food Restaurant
Dr. Dorothy Thomas
September 23, 2009
Fresh salty French fries, juicy bacon cheese burgers, and sweet refreshing shakes topped with whipped cream are just a few of the variables that lure costumers back to fast food. For the extremely hungry, all this can be cooked up and served right at a fingerprint covered window. In the midst of high fatty, swiftly prepared foods there is something missing. That lacking element is the consumers' brains. To be crucially honest the average person does not think twice about what they are shoving down their face hole. Therefore I present this question: What are you really getting? Perhaps you don't want to know, well it is too late.
During the past few months, I've observed the inner workings of a fast food establishment that I will leave nameless. From the exterior of the one year old building, it appears to be a healthy business. Entering the doors your ears are filled with ancient pop music and the sound of your feet making sticky noises from the stone floor. There is a short counter with two registers covered with dirty placemats advertising mini-artery clogging sandwiches. On the average encounter one would be greeted by an unenthusiastic red shirt or a manager who is just too tired to care. This is where the issues start. When the leader is not concerned with good customer service is it possible to assume the person making the food does?
Past the artificial stone counter the first thing to do is look down. Usually at this restaurant one will find the following covering the floor: a pair of tongs, a tube like instrument to siphon grease, powdery gloves, chicken, and a thin layer of golden grease.
Standing on that floor are the people that unpleasantly make the costumers' meals. Most of these people have been overworked for minimum wage. They are exhausted and some could care less what crappy product they send out, as long as it gets to where it needs to be. That means the meat of the conveniently priced one dollar sandwich that someone is about to shovel down their esophagus could have been anywhere. For example: there was a time one of the managers picked raw hamburger meat off the floors and tossed them onto the char broiler. When confronted they had this comment to make:
"Its nine hundred degrees…it will kill all the germs."
Another incident involved a frozen burger that fell into an oily mop bucket. The person who dropped the item retrieved it and planned to place it with non-contaminated patties. Luckily it got thrown away before anything else happened. Even the children are held victim to the ways of the hasty workers. Old chicken strips are stuffed into kid's meals while fresh ones are only five minutes away.
To sink this to another low the head manager has been making budget cuts. This means no towels to clean the toilets covered with fecal matter, urine, and blood. Along with that there are no new cloths to wipe the tables down with. So the rags once fresh and taut are now limply brown. Of course it is easy to avoid the restrooms, but what about the counters and tables. They too need to be wiped down from all the kids chewing on its corners and hair from female guest. With this close examination it is clear to see, this place begging for a health inspection.
Teens, children, elderly, and adults fish through their pockets trying to find something to kill the pains of self enforced starvation. With their hard earned cash they turn to this establishment. In return they receive phony service, an ill-prepared food product, and a bad case of burning hot diarrhea. If there is any doubt about the outcome go into the restrooms for a sight of disgusting rarity.