An entry earlier this week reminded me of a time long ago when I was making minimum wage. For about a year before joining Oshawa Foods as a grocery clerk, I flipped burgers at McDonalds.
I vividly remember the moment I knew I couldn't stay much longer at the fast food chain. After a year of service, I had a meeting with the manager, a man we called McDoug. McDoug was to give me a review and inform me as to what kind of raise I was in store for. I'll never forget the extremely serious expression on his face when he told me I'd be making an extra dime an hour as a result of my good performance.
I had to bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing hysterically. I can still taste the blood. Even as a teen I was intelligent enough to realize that during a typical 25 hour work week I'd be seeing an increase of $2.50 on my gross pay. I would have been happier to learn I wasn't getting any increase. Receiving a 10¢ "raise" was akin to receiving a slap in the face.
Immediately following my meeting with McDoug I set the wheels in motion to flee the coop. Thanks McDoug, wherever you are.
