This is it, after a month and a half of paperwork, interviews, and waiting for a call, I finally started working for the big M. I have read, and you have probably too, all of the junk on ther internet, stuff like “I work at McD and it’s prison”, well forget all of that. After almost completing my trainings, I have forged myself a whole other view of my newfound job, one far from what says the internet.

Sure, at first, it’s a bit intimidating, like any other job. You arrive there, new kid on the block, with no skills, no knowledge whatsoever, nothing. Personally, I expected a highly-efficient, ultra serious and almost robotic workplace, with no communication unless it concerns the McChicken that you just made. I turned out to be dead wrong, and I realized that from the first minute that I had a talk with a couple of older employees. Lets face it, most of the employees there are in their teens, and what can you expect a bunch of teenagers to do? Joke around, of course. This has no repercussions on efficiency, as most of the personnel have mastered the art of joking and making burgers at the same time, and while it in the beginning contributes to a part of the stress that newcomers, it gets very pleasant when you are used to your fellow employees, at least more pleasant than the lifeless vision that I had before starting. That’s a big part of work environment at McD: have fun, but be very efficient doing so.

Also, another thing that surprised me is how easy it is to work there. Sure, you might find this stupid, why would anybody find McDonalds a hard place to work at anyways? Well, after getting my uniform and documents but before working my first shift, I was growing worried that my weak memory might put me in trouble. The big document that they gave us was jam-packed with recipes detailing precisely measured quantities,  and second-precise cook times, and we were told to read the documents and learn them. Like the overdo-er that I am, I went home freaking out, reading the manual every time I possibly could, trying to remember the compositions of all the products McD had to offer and all of the possible times. Of course, there is no need for such intense brain-stuffing: pretty much everything in the restaurant has a timer, which facilitates my life A LOT when it comes to remembering what I put on the grill a couple of seconds ago. Turns out that you do have to remember some numbers, but you won’t get fired if you don’t know how much time it takes for a crispy chicken to cook in oil, or at what temperature the oil for Fillet-O-Fishes is.

In the end, how do I like my job? Lots. I feel like I’m doing something out of my life, not just fragging noobs on CS:S and playing WoW all the time, and the fun part is that I get paid for it, which is not only very rewarding but also very useful, compared to the meager allowances that  I used to get from my parents. At some times when I’m in school (which is over by the time this is published), and even at home when I feel that what I am doing is going nowhere, I just want to work. Workoholics they call it them?  Anyways, my job might not be the best, and it might not be the one that’ll get me rich, but I thank McD for giving me a first job that I like.