McDonald's — Restaurant in Bellingham

You know, I was just thinking about it, and it's been a while since McDonald's has done anything to get my panties in a twist. Their Fraps have been on point, and most importantly, they haven't drizzle blocked me in a hott minute. When I first discovered the truth of how addicting their Fraps were and how they beat out every other frap I've personally ever tasted.. EVER. I realized that even though it seemed as if they couldn't get any tastier, when paired with that ooey gooey goodness that they drizzle on top of the whip cream it becomes a treat I no joke couldn't go a day with out for well long enough to get too fat for my husband to ever consider ... I'll stop there because I'm pretty sure you get where that story is leading, and if not, I'll give you a hint. It doesn't end with me still having a husband.. sorry, fresh pain... man, i need a frap to cheer my drizzle guzzling self up. Oh, back to that sauce, man it got to where I would have to tell them... please cover the inside of the cup with an "ungodly amount of drizzle" and then that got to be not enough, so I started telling them I am pregnant and that basically I'd like a little bit of frap with my Carmel drizzle. 75 percent of the time they would say "ok for sure" and then they would hand this pitiful looking frap with a thin line of drizzle maybe making two or three full loops around the inside of the plastic cup, like a Christmas tree with nothing but one of those mini 8 lightbulb having christmas light stands from the dollar tree trying to provide all of the Christmas cheer and to say it came up short is a gigantic understatement, and so did most of the Fraps they TRIED to get me to except in the beginning. And that's after charging me for two extra drizzle charges, which was or is still apparently all they can possibly charge for in terms of drizzle. EACH AND EVERY TIME, I would feel really bad at first to have to ask for more drizzle on the side, but i mean, it's not like I told them to remake the whole thing.. still, they would almost always get so obviously upset and either tell me they aren't allowed to do any more... to which I would tell them I would pay any amount for the cost of the extra drizzle and they would think about it and then huff and disappear only to return later with the most insulting amount of drizzle and I mean literally a tiny dribble of drizzle not even enough to cover the bottom of a little tiny baby cup. At that point my husband, well my evil soon to be ex husband that cheated on me and left me for another woman recently.. would start driving away like that's not some kind of drizzaster....lol get it like drizzle disaster.. anyways I then had him huffing and getting buck because I want what I asked for from the beginning, that he knows I need if I'm getting a frap, nothing had changed on my part, but I'm apparently supposed to just take it up the frap with no drizz lol jk so at that point I would have to force him to stop leaving and pull around the front, proceed to get out... foods getting cold, he being a jerk calling me drizzle feind telling me I'm crazy for wanting my frap draped up and drizzed out.. then when i would go in, they would argue about they don't have a way to charge me for more to which I would finally just say.. you know what... fine I'll order another frap... just hold the frap and give me the drizz in a cup... and there is some that would actually make me do that,,, and still give me less than I wanted..or the nice employees that would charge me for a salad packet. There were a few who straight up told me they can't do that even...i obviously didn't let that stand...oh but the worst of all is when it would look so yummy and drizzly and I was like heck yes you rock you are my hero and leave feeling excited to finally have what I want made the way I like just to get too far to turn back (according to my jerk husband).. and taste it and realize they gave me Carmel SUNDAE topping not drizz!!! Which tastes like Carmel apple or some not yummy and drizzlicious like I was expecting. But that...

Coming South on I-5, you find yourself at the Samish Highway, exit 246. A veritable wonderland of businesses and establishments dot the hill, but only one promises to serve so many needs with true expedience: McDonalds/Super V Gas. From the outside, the building is large, and it truly must be to hold so much—there’s a convenience store there, a set of bathrooms, a kitchen, a two-lane drive thru, a series of gas pumps. What you choose to do is limited only by your imagination and ominous signs threatening loiterers with trespass. Today, you need only for breakfast. The gas station/convenience market, though convenient, has breakfast offerings that pale in comparison to what the Golden Arches, those portals to flavorful dimensions, could ever provide. A quick skip through the doors lands you face to face again with two McDonald’s kiosks. Their interface is familiar, like a friendly neighbor. With the press of a finger, you and the kiosk have the same old conversation ‘how’s the wife and kids?’ ‘Is Tony going to walk at graduation this year?’ and ‘do you want to add coffee or hash browns to your order?’ Though that might be too much food for you, the kiosk was thoughtful to ask, if a little solicitous. You place your order to go, but you know you’ll be back. Were it not for the signage, this location gives little reason to leave. And so you think ‘maybe I’ll stay, just this once, forever. It wouldn’t be so bad, they have soft seating, it’s well lit here, there’s even a microwave in the adjoined convenience store. A guy could get pretty comfortable here! And the kiosk seems to like me, why not?!’ Your thought is punctuated with a passing survey of the other diners. It’s crowded for a Tuesday morning, but nobody seems to mind. United by a shared desire for quick, affordable breakfast this community seems happy. The phrase ‘good morning’ has actual meaning within the four walls of this restaurant. In that moment, a truth of the human condition reveals itself to you: home is found in the safety of our brothers and sisters love. This is heaven. But no—this is just McDonalds. And while the kiosk’s kind receipt was well-meaning, it carries a three digit bid farewell. A staff member calls the receipt’s number, warning you it is time to go. While he does not glance at the sign, the terseness of his gesture practically shows you to the door. Perhaps he was correct. There are more roads to travel and restaurants to see. You did order this to-go after all. And really, that says everything there is to say about you. This McDonalds seemed like your home, but you will be home at any McDonald’s. You take a lasting...

I've been to this McDonald's twice within the past few months and both times they've messed up my order. The first, I got all the way home and realized that they did not put the patty on my burger. Y'all, they missed the burger on my burger. I called, confirmed that I was coming back, and they said they would correct the order. I drove all the way back, and it wasn't until I got there that they started to remake my order, so I had to wait again. Why did they not remake it when I called? I don't know either!

Today, I ordered at the drive thru. I was asked to pull forward while my order was completed, totally fine. When I received my order, I didn't have my hash browns. I entered the store, and was told that it would take "just one minute." I went to the table nearby and proceeded to wait for 10 minutes. I went back to the counter and stood nearby, and had the person who told me it would take only one minute look at me and continue to put other orders together. I had to wait in line again, ask about my hash browns, and was told "oh, sorry." The person then walked over and grabbed the already ready hasbrowns and dropped them in my bag.

Neither times did they sincerely apologize or offer to throw in a few extra items to compensate for the frustration and wasted time/gas. Very inconsiderate and the opposite of...