McCourtesy, or Egg’s Revenge

I got to Rome station yesterday morning an hour earlier than I needed, slightly hungover and hungry, with five hours of exam invigilation ahead of me. A McMuffin seemed just the thing. I went to the McDonalds by the Ricordi music shop and joined the queue.

The conversation went like this (but in Italian).
– A McMuffin and orange juice, please.
– That’s €4.15.
– But it’s only €3.90 if I have a menu with hash browns.
– So?
– So why should I pay more for less?
– You should have ordered a menu.
– I didn’t want any hash browns. I didn’t expect to pay more without them.
– You should learn to read.
– You should learn to be polite, signorina.
– Yeah, right.

After this exchange, the girl gave me change for a menu and stalked off into the rear of the place. A moment later, my McMuffin slid down the chute, the girl reappeared with a smug little grin, picked the thing up and gave it to me. I walked away, still fuming, sat down and ate it.

It wasn’t until I’d finished that it occurred to me she’d spit on it.

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2 Responses to McCourtesy, or Egg’s Revenge

  1. Chancelucky says:

    In the US you would be safe as long as she didn’t ask “Would you like saliva with that?”McDonalds in Rome is a disturbing thought even if they’ve been there for many years. Sort of Pax Romana alongside Pox Americana

  2. Everyone got upset about McDonald’s in Rome, particularly when they opened their flagship joint near the Spanish Steps, under the offices of Valentino no less. But it’s turned out to be a pretty contained, and even welcome, invasion. Maybe our leaders should have asked them how they did it…

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