The Complexities of the North

All the Maritimers out there are going to know what I am talking about.

What is up with the drive thru system at McDonald’s here in YK?

In Nova Scotia and BC we have a very simple system. You drive to the little metal box and magically a voice will ask you what you would like to order. Once you tell the little man inside the metal box what you would like, you then proceed to the next window where there will be a worker who you pay. Next, you drive to the last window to pick up your order. A very simple process.

This is not the case in YK.

In YK, we do not have a metal box to speak in to for placing your order. We actually have to drive to the first window, speak to an actual human being in person and tell that person what you want. That person then rings in your order and also gives you any condiments you may require. Then you continue to the last window to pick up your order.

Now that the non Northerners comprehend this system, let me say that I do not actually go to McD`s that often. Maybe once a month I feel like a cheeseburger, the ensuing guilt over consuming said cheeseburger prevents me from daring to eat one for at least another month or two or maybe even three.

Not long ago, hubby was working a night shift and I thought I would head to McD`s for a fix. I drove up to the drive thru lane and entered, driving up to the first window. I knew this is where I should order, but I felt nervous, not ordering at the metal box felt very wrong, almost unnatural. Sitting at the window I waited, and waited... and waited. I looked around nervously wondering if there really was a metal ordering box and maybe it was new and now there I was like an idiot sitting and waiting for a human to come and take my order. The old McD`s guilt overcame me and I contemplated making a break for it and leaving the drive thru before even ordering. However, there was a car at window #3 waiting for their order and I knew I was trapped. I looked once again to the window where I saw a big sticker telling us patrons to stop at that window and order. I continued to sit and wait for someone to come. Soon, another car entered the drive thru behind me and that is when things got crazy.

At least ten minutes had passed since I had first drove up to the ordering window. Now a car was behind me and I almost felt panicked at what was going on and convinced myself I was spiralling into a bottomless pit of obesity by even being at McD`s. I figured that perhaps the order taking person was at the middle window and made the executive decision to advance forward to check this out. As I feared, no one was at the middle window. NO ONE. I continued to wait as there was now a large line up behind me when all of a sudden I saw in my rear-view mirror the order taker hanging out of window #1 and giving my vehicle a nervous glance. She even waved to my vehicle, although there was no way I could reverse at this point, I was really in a pickle.

Realizing this was one of the most ridiculous situations I had ever been in I silently cursed this silly Northern McD’s as gigantic ravens swooped around my car, seemingly staring at me with pity. I sensed them saying, “You silly Southern girl, you can’t even handle a Northern McD’s drive thru... idiot,” as they shook their heads in embarrassment for this poor, stupid girl. I pulled up to the third window, nervously wondering what I should do, just drive away or tell the worker what happened. The latter seemed to make the most sense as I had now wasted approximately 15 minutes of my life at this drive thru.

At #3 window, the worker approached the window, opened it and held out a brown McDonald’s bag for me to take. I explained that was not mine, what happened and waited for the scathing look. To my surprise he smiled at me warmly and quickly asked what he could get for me. Total shock overcame me, and I stuttered that I would like a cheeseburger. In a few quick minutes he had it ready for me, I paid and off I went.

Now, this is surprising to me for two reasons. Firstly, in other regions, the metal box eliminates any “which window do I order at” confusion. Even though there is a large sticker with a big old stop sign on window #1, saying to stop and order there, after ten minutes and a long line-up growing behind me, I clearly felt the appropriated action would be to move ahead and see if the order taker was at the next window. Then by the time I got to the third, I feared that I had obviously missed my chance to order.

But friends, this is the North! People are ridiculously friendly here. If that same situation had occurred in the South, I am certain the pubescent McD’s worker would have looked at me, flung some ketchup packets at my head and screamed for me to get out of there because I was too fat to even order a dirty McD’s cheeseburger. I KNOW THAT IS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN. Now in the North, that lovely young man rolled with this unexpected twist, did not even give me ONE disparaging look and quickly prepared my order. I love it.

The North is also the place where you can be invited to a party from a girl who you have only met once, she is the only person you know at this party and end up having a great time and leave after having met some great new friends.

I’m tellin’ ya, the Arctic grows on me more and more, day by day.