McDonald's — Restaurant in Milton

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ MILTON McDONALD’S – MAMA D & THE CHICKEN NUGGET MONSTER (AKA ELIJAH)

LISTEN HERE.

Mama D rolled up to the Milton McDonald’s with my grandbaby Elijah — big ol’ boy built like a busted bean bag chair, nonverbal but got a lot to say with his mouth full, ya feel me?

I ordered him some nuggets, fries, a burger, and a Sprite — and BABY when I tell you this boy turned into a fast food velociraptor—I ain’t lyin’. He snatched that tray like it was a Black Friday deal at Walmart. Didn’t even sit down first—he started chewin’ while walkin’. Who raised this child? ME. I did. Lord help me.

The staff looked over like, “Is he alright?” I said, “He’s just passionate about meat.” Meanwhile Elijah’s over there huffin’ like he just ran a marathon in a sauna with nugget crumbs all over his shirt like sprinkles on a donut.

Now Elijah a big boy — got ankles like tree trunks and a belly that jiggles when he breathes. He don’t talk, but when he likes somethin’? He just closes his eyes and hums like a gospel choir. Boy was halfway through his burger moanin’ like the Holy Spirit hit him.

And LAWD don’t let the fries be hot, ‘cause he’ll toss ’em in his mouth like popcorn and then panic ’cause they “too spicy” — boy they just came out the fryer, you ain’t learn your lesson yet?

The staff was so sweet though — didn’t say nothin’ even when Elijah dropped a whole nugget and tried to pick it up with his foot. (Sir. SIR.)

5 STARS from Mama D ⭐ One for the nuggets Elijah inhaled like a vacuum. ⭐ One for the Sprite that made him burp loud enough to shake the windows. ⭐ One for the kind worker who didn’t laugh when he got ketchup on his ear. ⭐ One for the fries that had him dancing in his seat like Beyoncé. ⭐ And one for me — for raising a lovable food goblin and not snatchin’ him bald in public.

– Mama D (Still Detroit made, still embarrassed,...

They screw up orders every single time. Even after making corrections twice you realize they still got it wrong, usually after getting back on highway. Wasted more time driving back to attempt correcting the order (3rd time) after already correcting said order previously at the drive thru AND pay window before the pickup window. The best part is after driving back to the pick up window to politely explain the situation to the young lady who looks at you in that passive aggressive teenager mode kinda like, "ugh... ermehGeRd! what do you want... ". You even try to lighten the mood by self-jokingly apologizing for being a fatboy about the situation when suddenly the girl at the window rolls her eyes in full "miss sassy pants mode". Maybe I read her face and body language wrong, if so then I apologize. Maybe she struggles with Resting B!@%# Face (aka R.B.F.), God know my wife does. Maybe she was rolling her eyes because her team screwed up another order. Maybe she was having a horrible day and my face made it worse. It wouldn't be the first time since I've got a smile only a mother could love. LOL. But after detecting what looked like passive aggressive eye-rolling sass I just left and I highly doubt I'll go back to this store which is probably best for my cholesterol anyway. So If you want to be a fatty but also like dealing with nice people who smile AND get your orders right (consistently), go to Chick-fil-A. You can...

Never park where people in the drive-thru can box you in. Trust me on that, because they will not give you space to back out, because they are (apparently) terrified of leaving more than a few feet of space between their front bumper and the back bumper of the car ahead of them. I dunno...maybe they think that someone's going to shoehorn into a reasonable gap and cut line. People who think that are imbeciles, so a better explanation may just be that they're inconsiderate and selfish wretches.

I've learned my lesson at this location: You can go through the drive-thru, pay, get your food, pull around and carry your bag(s) inside before the people who simply park and go inside to order will get their own food. Seems to be a focus on service levels at the drive-thru, at the expense of counter service. Not kidding that you are going to wait a bit inside, while they keep the drive-thru humming along.

The trash cans inside are always overflowing when I do venture inside. The bathroom is clean, though.

You have to ask for salt and pepper and condiments. Gone are the days when you can grab a handful of ketchup packets. Gone are the days that you can just get some salt without asking. Everything costs money, but even at minimum wage levels, those hundreds of inquiries a day--followed by counting out packets of whatever--have to cost more than treating your customers like thieving...