Someone (OK the S.O.) had a craving for McD's. I stopped hating on that because we all have guilty pleasures, right?
I figured I'd offset the carbon by not using the drive thru. Big mistake.
My first impression when walking in was how soft the decorative touches are (for MCDONALD'S!) and how it didn't have the same sad-ham feeling of old. Nice espresso brown colour palette and flat screen TVs made it feel more like Caban than it's previous incarnation.
The spell is broken when you turn to order at the counter. It feels like a trauma centre made of grease and hormones. All beeps and yelling and surveillance cameras. The setup is like an amateur round of mousetrap where they have contraptions like conveyor belts for the drive thru orders. It took me literally 10 minutes just to place an order because the teenage boys in front of me kept insisting on drink refills and double checking their Monopoly cards with the employee.
The other till was taken up in a conversation with a worker just off her shift there. I'm normally cool with this and there's an unwritten agreement that you have to put up with delays now and again but this is freakin' McDonald's, right?
It's rare that I leave a resto (ish) feeling irritable and self loathing like I did here. This ends my cranky old man rant!