If you have kids, then you’ve been through the McDonalds drive-thru. We have our local McDonalds that we frequent (less often than we used to I might add) and there is a woman who works there. I should know her name, but I don’t. I do know that she recognizes me and I recognize her each time we pass her window as she hands me our standard order of nuggets and large iced teas with light ice.
She has been working there for a long time. She has a heavy accent and is missing several front teeth, but her smile, when she sees that it’s us, changes. It gets bigger and she always says hi like we haven’t seen each other in ages. It makes me feel so good. I always ask how her day is going and whether or not she had her break yet or if she heard from her sister yet (who lives in another country and misses her dearly). For those of you that know me, I don’t’ have trouble making conversation, that’s for sure.
We only have seconds for this conversation, but always try to make the most of it. It’s important to me that she knows I appreciate her hard work and efforts in her job and tell her that I’m always disappointed when we get to the window and it’s not her.
She has a story. We all have a story. I don’t know much of hers, but do know that she is a hard worker and takes her job very seriously and is proud of what she does. She has a sister and likes the morning shift better than the afternoon one (lighter bags and cooler weather) and that her smile makes me smile.
As we pull away, I always tell her to do something fun when she gets off work or to enjoy the weather and take a walk when she gets home. I don’t know if she ever does, but for those 47 seconds we’re together we’re sharing little pieces of our selves with each other and being kind people. It’s 47 seconds of my day I know will always be pleasant. I just hope she thinks the same. And next time we drive through her lane, I’ll be sure to jot her name down. I need to know it.
