Inside McDonald’s McCafe
Philadelphia, PA
Possums, as you know I have been writing you from McDonald’s. Never have I ever had to eat so much sausage!
Well….that’s debatable!
And then, I have to constantly use the washroom, and I cannot leave my laptop unattended and then I have to pack it all up, just to unpack it all over again.
Such a delicate dance I have to perform.
Possums, guess what! I finally went!! Apparently, when you have to go to the bathroom, just eat more food on top of what you already have! They should put that in the medical journals, non? I was so worried I was going to die on the toilet, like Elvis. Didn’t they say that he died on the crapper from trying too hard? I know that some say it was because of all the pills, but I bet you it was due to constipation from all those peanut butter and banana sandwiches!
Did you know that some Chinese food restaurants serve Mac and Cheese! Oh, sweet Jesus! And you know that you ain’t got no Chinese food, unless you have Mac and Cheese with your order of Chicken Balls! Every minute, the waitresses kept coming up to our table asking us if we needed any help. And when my illustrious Aunt S. finally couldn’t take it anymore, she told them-“does it look like I am finished??? Ain’t there still balls on my plate! Shoot, I’m still chewing my food in my mouth, mother-f—k-r!”
Well, after that, all we got was “Sorry Miss”. And no one; I repeat no one, came up to our table anymore! We had to keep putting our dirty dishes on the empty table behind us.
Who knew that a well placed mother-effer would put people in their place?
Afterwards, we went home to relax and my Aunt regaled me with stories of the fire and how she fainted in front of the live television crew and how my cousin (with tears streaming down his face, but of course!) dashed in, trying to salvage anything he could-pictures, clothes, etc. The fire burnt everything, but they were able to save some precious photos of my grandmother. I begged my Aunt if I could borrow them and make copies at their local Wal-mart for my Dad.
You know Possums, they say that sometimes God gives you warnings. They may come in the form of a person, a place or a thing. Well, you know my Aunt kept on telling me to go to the local CVS to make the copies, but I didn’t listen because I trusted the retail powers that be-that of Wal-Mart.
But, let me tell you, it all started off quite nicely the next day. I had Ava, Dante and my cousin’s small son with me. I got in some amazing shopping! You see, and this is not up for debate, but Philly is like a whole year and a half behind Canada and most parts of the world, in terms of fashion. I always said (for North America) that New York is first, then California, then Canada, and then Philly, et al. Trust me! My cousin, let’s call her, Nym-pho-pho, was freaking over her new purchase of fake UGG boots!! Which, are now all the rage in Philly! She asked me if I ever bought a pair. I told her, yes I did, ….THREE YEARS AGO! Anyhoo, I went to Wal-Mart to make my copies at the Kodiak machine. Simple enough.
They say that God let’s you know when and where not to play with fire. I think that is why Wal-Mart makes them wear them smocks, cause the –ish was about to hit the fan!!!
I trotted around the store for the customary hour, and then headed over to the photo center. Well, surprise, surprise, no one was there. So, I went to find the nearest sales associate and asked if I could do a pick-up. She didn’t seem to happy that I interrupted her conversation with her co-worker. Well, the girl went through my photos and told me that she couldn’t give me the photos of my grandmother cause they looked like they were taken in the studio.
The studio?
Possums, but, let me tell you how this woman, my grandmother, has on what looks like gold house slippers and not a whole lot of jewels! And Possums, if you remember, my grandmother was the type of person to put a massive amount of jewels on, look at herself in the mirror, and then put on even more!
I told the salesgirl Boutana that it was taken in Jamaica, a long, long time ago!
She was like, there were copyright laws, and it looked as if it were taken in a studio.
And I was like, studio! It was taken in the front parlor of our vast plantation-like estate!
And she was like, unless I had permission of the copyright holder, the person who took the photograph, she was not going to give it to me!
And I was like, unless she had a large pitchfork, a chisel, and a plane ticket to Jamaica that was the only way that I could get in touch with the copyright holder.
And she was like, who was the copyright holder?
And I was like it was my grandfather and they are both dead.
And then she was like, she still ain’t giving it to me.
And I was like, like hell you are, and you better call the manager.
Well, you know the Boutana called the crab louse Assistant Manager and then the said manager had the audacity to have me standing there for 15minutes waiting for her!!! And then the Boutana and I got into an argument for over my time being wasted. The girl had the nerve to start yelling at me, in front of everyone.
I let her know that she was a waste of my time, cause she ain’t that special!!!
Well, when the crab louse Assistant Manager came she already made up her mind, she weren’t going to give me my pictures. So, what is a smart feisty girl to do, but asked to speak to the Manager.
And she was like, she was the Manager.
And I was like, no she weren’t, cause else she would have been smart enough to push for the Manager title.
Well, she shut down and told me that was her decision.
I took down her name and that of the Boutana, and took my other photos and went to cash out Ava’s Miley Cyrus’s t-shirts.
But, let me tell you that God didn’t give up on me, cause the front cashier girl noticed that I was upset. I showed her my Aunt’s copy of my grandma’s photo and she sympathized with me. She told me that the MANAGER WAS THERE!!
Well, long story short, I explained to the manager that the pics were taken at our home several decades ago and that although, I have resigned myself to the fact that Wal-Mart would not give me my copies, I did plan to escalate the issue when I arrived back in Canada.
I don’t know if it were the sweat that I masked as tears (it fell into my eyes anyways, so I may have just happened to wipe them at the appropriate time) or the fact that I fell a couple of steps backwards and held on to the shopping cart and asked Ava to quickly purchase me a bottle of orange soda, cause I felt a fainting spell a coming. Or maybe, it was the fact that when I told the man the Boutana’s name, he rolled his eyes and told me to wait a few minutes.
And Guess what?
Not, only did I get my photos, but I got extras-three 8×10 and one 5×7!!! So, thank-you Kenneth!
The moral of the story is simple Possums-stand up for your rights, if they are based on good principles.
By the way, on my way out, I saw the crab louse Assistant Manager and the Boutana. They both looked at me smugly, as if to say that they were still glad they told me “No”…although it all still went in my favor.
I looked at them and in my most lady-like way I said to them politely-“My dears, why don’t you both eat a bowl of f-ck!”
And my darling Possums, you should have seen their reactions on their faces and that of Ava and little Dante!!!
I would love to have taken a picture and make copies for you.
Don’t worry…
I know I hold the copyright!
Inside McDonald’s McCafe
Philadelphia, PA
Dear So and So,
I am going to call you out.
I have had many a things done to me as a youth and over time…
I know why the caged bird sings.
And I am glad that in this case the caged bird sang.
‘Til this day, I can’t even bring myself to see the movie “Precious”.
To think that something as grotesque as child abuse is so close to home.
And to have your man try to lie and say that it was an “accident”!!!
Why, is his peen that sweet?
No, dear.
No, peen is sweet enough to hurt your child over.
I was SO right about you.
I call it like I see it.
In the words of the great NeNe-”You are nothing, but a low-budget bitch!”
To think that you would let a random man come into your life and strike and beat your child.
A child that you carried for nine months and a day.
A child that brought life into your world.
Woman have you no shame???
If I see you, you better walk on the other side of the street.
Pray, you don’t even call my name, cause I will let everyone know what you let happened to your child.
And if you call my name in a supermarket, there WILL BE a clean-up in aisle 5!!!
And you call yourself a mother!!!
There are many a woman that would trade places with you gladly.
Many a woman who have tried for many years to be blessed with a child.
Did you ever think that, maybe this is a time for you to learn more about yourself, instead of settling for whatever peen comes along!!
I am a full believer of redemption, but knowing your history, I doubt you will make that change.
I am so glad we are not blood related. And to think that I was once on your side.
You sick dog’s stomach!
-Lucresia Linton
Heartbroken, Lucresia Linton decided to turn to the internet. She believes that if God gives you lemons, then you must order your very rude child to make you a pitcher of lemonade and go find an audience elsewhere!
