Pictured is my very first paycheck (from the summer of 1988 -- when I made $3.50 an hour!) and the swing shift supervisor plaque with my name on it that used to go in the sign by the front counter that I took with me when I left employment to go to my semester abroad in Germany during my sophomore year of college in the fall of 1990. (And, as bonus photos instead of my usual companion links, my very first performance review and the annual Christmas party programs with some old school McNames on it from our store, and a few shots I've posted previously in my Flashback Fridays.)Although the building burned down and was a total loss, the memories from time spent there can't be so easily destroyed.
McDonald's was one of my first jobs -- and it was how I got to know half of the small town where I grew up. Back in that day, there was just an East and a West McDs (as opposed to now, when there are ones in Myerstown AND in the North *AND* in the South -- although I think the West one might have closed down at some point since I left town). Plus, being on the East End, it afforded me the opportunity as a high school student to meet kids from multiple school districts -- Elco, Cedar Crest and the city school all convened there.
McDonald's was also tied in to my personal drama of running away from home, as the stepmother forced me to quit (there were tears and lots of cards and even poems written for me during that angsty time ... and I may have run in one night when my friend Jarrod was working and asked him to punch my arm so that I could feel the bruise and remember that there were people who cared about me, in some sad twisted kind of teenage logic) ... and then as I got my job back as soon as I ran away and struck out "on my own", with lots of support, of course. Store manager Steve B still gets credit when I celebrate the March 15th personal day of independence, and I can vividly remember him walking me across the street to the bank (Peoples' Bank back then) to open up my first checking account on my own.
McDonald's memories for me are all about the people ... from managers to customers to co-workers. It's where I met my closest friends (Jarrod S, Kyle K and Eric F all worked there at one point or another). It was directly connected to four of the five proms I attended (with prom dates Lesley G, Becke G, Jody W and Kristi G all being regular customers or co-workers). It was about everyone -- from the early morning regular guy Joe T to the seniors who worked the day shift, like George the fry guy, on down to the people who only worked to collect the pins (Shirley G) and the evening maintenance men Miguel R, who changed out the grease each night in the fryers (and hit on all the girls that closed with his Latin Lover routine) and hepC Ed. It was where I got managed for the first time ... from the aforementioned Steve B, Gerry S, Julia K, Alfredo R, Gina R, Cora B, Terry B and many more.
Back then, we did things together .. especially when our store joined all the other ones in the Hassman empire. We went white water rafting together. We went skiing together. We competed in McTrivia contests together (and Howard H and Steve Z and Marci took that stuff very seriously, as I recall). We attended parties together (I'm thinking specifically of Jody N's graduation party and bonfire -- there was a bonfire, wasn't there?)
I loved me the drive-thru ... especially when we expanded it so that we'd have a separate drive thru payment window (and got a skinny manager's office in the process). I was there for the launch of the headsets with the two buttons (one to talk outside and one to talk to the people on the inside) ... and I had a great time being "the voice" -- except for when I didn't have customers and had to make those Happy Meal boxes (shout-out to the McNugget Buddies!) ... or salads ('cause I was old enough to work the deadly tomato slicer that 15 year olds couldn't go near). I saw the koi pond go in. And the parking lot next door get annexed to our store -- and I was there when Gerry had to come back at the end of the night to kick out all of the people who were cruising the loop and had stopped to hang out.
But I did it all, as I worked my way up from crew to crew trainer to swing shift supervisor. I primed the shake machine. I washed the dishes when we closed (for what seemed like hours). I calibrated the fountain drink machine (and can still instantly tell when I eat out whether any establishment's machine is overdue for maintenance). I got up super early and rode my bike (this was before I had a car) to be one of the first people in the place to make the biscuits. I was there when we got the first clam shell grill. I was the promo guy who swapped out the special lighted panels (and organized the messy closets near the ceiling in the crew room) and I served on the enthusiasm committee. I did the ordering, and inventoried those sliding shelves in the stock room, and made sure we had the frozen birthday cakes available AND ordered and paid for my own personal case of McChocolate Chip Cookies every so often that I used to have to throw to my friends across the Plaza.
I was there when it was super busy and every space on the grill was full, and we were flying through the act of dressing the carmelized buns with those little mayo and mac sauce guns. I was there when the snows came and we would cut people one by one to go home early. I know what happens when you get throw a snowball from the opposite side of the parking lot (if you're lucky, it goes in through the drive thru window) ... and what happens when you throw a pickle to the ceiling or a light fixture in the dining room (it stays there for weeks if no one else sees it) ... and what happens when some punk slams the cheap salt shaker down on top of a quarter and leaves it there (the next person picks it up and the bottom has been broken out so the salt goes *everywhere*) ... and what happens when a bunch of guys get together and try to force a certain young person to shave for the first time (the shake machine gets kicked out when that kid panics and almost throws his neck on the razor for spite) ... and what happens when a kid realizes he can make friends with the cool people by passing out extra game cards in the drive thru window.
I made my own double quarter pounder with cheese long before they were on the menu. I served McDLTs -- in *styrofoam* containers. I was there when they rolled out the McChicken for the first time (and the McRib -- the original time). I ate my crew food after the little aluminum number that matched the clock meant that the 10 minute holding time had expired ... and I may have actually eaten food out of the special food waste bucket at the end of the night (after it was counted) -- just once or twice. I drank McSuicides (a splash of every drink in a child's courtesy cup) and made my own special McDessert (soft serve ice cream in a large sized cup with a hot cherry pie shoved in its core and chocolate chip cookies all around it).
So yes ... buildings may burn ... and although the physical building will be missed (until it's rebuilt), the McMemories and the McRelationships of my first McJob will last forever.
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