McDonald's — Restaurant in Tigard

Lengthy but true:

What a bummer. Being as my first payroll job was at my local golden arches topped establishment, I usually have a little bit of a soft spot for McD's so I tend to cut them a little slack. However, this trip was a horrible customer experience! Where do I begin?

1. the wait-since I am not a fan of being on the road after midnight on 4th of July weekend, I tried to speed things up by using the app and ordering in advance. So my order has been placed, I pull into lane #2 of the DT with s car in front and one in lane #1. #1 pulls forward and is replaced with another car. Again #1 pulls forward and another car takes its turn. I haven't heard a voice from the speaker in my land and yet I hear both the team member and the person in the car perfectly fine complete a third transaction and move on. So I back out and pull into that lane and give the girl my code and am instructed to pull forward to the second window. The other car is probably still there. Get to the window and my order is confirmed and she hands me my receipt, then closes the window. 7 minutes later the window opens and I am asked what my order was. I show her the receipt, she closes the window. Another few minutes and I am handed my drink and a spoon... A spoon. Another 6 minutes and the window opens and I am asked if I had the MC crispy strip meal and the McFlurry, I say yes, window closes. Another few minutes and I am given a bag and told my McFlurry will be right up. After I have consumed my fries, a piece of chicken and half of my drink I am handed my McFlurry I start to leave when a girl yells at me to wait. I slam on the brakes because I thought I was about to run over a small child by that level of her alarm, and she hands me another spoon! I could have gone to a tavern, ordered a drink, drank it and then paid for my tab in the time it took to get my order.

The food-why did they decide to call those pieces of "chicken" McCrispy Chicken Strips when they should be called McLimpwetnoodles! Nothing crispy, crunchy or remotely solid about what I was served. I take that back, the scalding hot fries were crispy.

The staff-this part is tough. Sure, some of the problems with the poor service lies with the individual. But your staff is only ever going to be as good as they are trained. So while the natural and immediate desire is to shoot the messenger, but working the past 3 decades in specialty retail administration I know better and direct the "shame on you" speech towards the poor girl's supervisors, managers and anyone else who were tasked with training her on the correct customer handling, window and drive through skills training. How many times she must have been thoroughly chewed out up one side and down the other by some entitled Karen with a van full of toddlers when she is only doing what she has learned to do.

40 years ago when I worked for McOpCo we had an letter acronym QSC Quality, Service and Cleanliness. Just about every quick service establishment open for business today should realize that if they stick to what those three letters stood for back then rather than Quick, Screw the Customer, retail might make a case against being replaced by AI.

I did not just sit and write all of that to pick on your store or a certain team member, I am merely leaving an honest review of a McDonald's struggling due to a couple of policies that have not been handled correctly and as a result, the public has been affected negatively. Hopefully one of their managerial support team has...

4/1/25-5:28 pm Got outta work, ordered on the app. Roll up—line’s out the lot into the street. Chap on the blaster’s perky enough. I only ordered a standard spicy deluxe McCrispy and a spicy McChicken meal, but was directed to the waiting spot of shame.

Why they ever ditched the grilled chicken for another mayo-slopped McNugget wannabe is beyond me, but hey, they do them. We’re not loving it.

A runner heads to an unmarked car, intercepted by another. Both disappear inside, the first one emerging at my window. Guess they almost delivered my food to a friend. Whatever.

Reach into the bag, fingers expecting the lukewarm embrace of reconstituted starch sticks in their patented open-casket box. Just crinkly wrappers and a smooth box top. No fries. The only thing I really wanted.

Swing back to the drive-thru—not even upset, just disappointed. It’s still packed, so I park wonkily near the door, mindful of my car’s footprint. A guy exits, beelining for the car beside mine. More than 1.5 feet of clearance between us, but he lingers. I don’t spare him a glance, just grab my keys. Wallet exposed, work laptop in plain view. It’s fine. No conceal carry today—work’s got a no-personal-firearm policy.

Walking in, chaos. Exhausted faces, teen boys at kiosks, worker bees swarming the make line. The fry station’s walled off by four unmoving drones. The manager glances my way, noting no kiosk order, then resumes stuffing bags with folded wax-paper bundles of chemicals and reconstituted meat byproduct.

I wait. A worker ventures close. My chance.

“Hey, excuse me, y’all forgot the fries in my driv—”

“WAIT A MINUTE.”

“No sweat,” I lie. Sweat says otherwise—this place is a humid mess of human exhaustion, grease, and managerial neglect. My patience, like the sweat bead at my brow, evaporates mid-drop. Wasn’t I once composed? When did I lose my touch? Existential crisis brewing, I spot a hand waving a red and yellow blob.

“HERE!” Same drone who handed me the fry-less sack earlier.

Bound out, back to the car, victorious. Grab a fry—warm! Fresh! Excited nibble.

Dry. Tasteless.

What happened? Taste bud malfunction? Then it hits me. NaCl.

A wave of disgust. Memories surge—my second job, scraping together enough for a couple of CDs and eighth every- Paychecks with my name, erased by prices outpacing compensation. Even then, I never imagined that exchange—two weeks of labor—would one day buy even less.

The car ahead shoots forward. Left turn light clicks green. Not only was I made a liar today, but now I yearn for a dollar menu, Monopoly peel-offs, simpler times—and salt for...

My Niece and I visited this McDonalds on Scholls Ferry at 12:15pm on Sunday, May 6, 2018 and we used the self serve ordering kiosk to order a McFlurry and took a number to place on our table as instructed by the Kiosk. Ten minutes later I was wondering if the McFlurry was going to be delivered to the table or if I needed to pick it up at the counter. The employee told me that it would be delivered to our table. 10 minutes later I went back to the same employee and asked if he could check on it since it had been 20 minutes since we ordered it. I walked to the counter with him as he asked the manager where our McFlurry was and her response was, “It was on the counter”. No apology, nothing.... The junior employee asked her to make a fresh one and she did right away and handed it to me with no further explanation on why it took so long and as to why it hadn’t been delivered to our table. I asked to talk to a manager and turns out she was the manager. I told her I was told it would be delivered to our table. Her response was well this is his first day and on Sunday’s they don’t deliver the order to the table but other days they do. I told her perhaps there should be a sign that explains that to the customer at the Kiosk. I then told her that her first response as a manager should have been, “I’m very sorry, I’ll make you a fresh one right away”. “Customer service is about pleasing the customer.” Her response was, “I did make you a new one”. Wow! This manager needs some more training on customer service! Won’t be returning to this McDonalds without some sort of response to this post. Let’s see if anyone in upper management...