Excellent customer service at McDonald’s

This morning I drove Kathryn to work, her car being in the shop today for a minor repair. She typically leaves for work about 90 minutes before I do, so I decided to skip my usual breakfast at home and grab something to eat after dropping her off. I had a hankering for a sausage biscuit, so I ended up at the McDonald’s on the corner of Seventh Street and McDowell Road. I may have written about this particular McDonald’s before. It’s conveniently located about 100 yards from a park the City of Phoenix surrendered years ago to a subculture of homeless drug addicts. I arrived at about 5:45 am, fifteen minutes ​after the lobby opened. After paying for my order but before my food arrived, a rather disheveled woman appeared from the restroom, presented herself at the counter, ordered a small hot chocolate with three creams and three sugars, and asked the order-taker somewhat nonchalantly what day this is. As if she’d anticipated the question and prepared an appropriate response, the teenager replied quite politely, “It’s Thursday, ma’am.”

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