I expect that many of you have never heard of the Prisoner's Dilemma. I will explain it briefly here, but if you want more information you can check out the Wikipedia page about it here. It is a simple yet subtle game from the field of Game Theory, which is the mathematical study of, you guessed it, games. It goes something like this:
The police have arrested two men for a crime, but do not have enough evidence to convict either one. The prisoners are held in two separate interrogation rooms, unable to communicate with their partner, and are both presented with a choice either to remain silent (to "cooperate") or to rat out their cohort (to "defect"). If both of them remain silent, they will both serve six months in prison on lesser charges that the police can convict them of. If one rats out the other, then the rat gets a walk and the other serves ten years in prison. If they both rat each other out, they both serve five years in prison.
In a one-shot situation, it is obviously better to rat out your partner. While I won't give a real proof, the logic goes something like this: if you don't rat out your partner, you could serve either six months or ten years. If you do rat out your partner, you serve either no time or five years. While five years is not as good as six months, it beats the hell out of ten years, and no time trumps them all. What is interesting is that the outcome that is best for both as a pair, i.e., both cooperate, is not the best possible outcome for an individual alone.
To put numbers with this, both players start out with no points. If both cooperate, both get three points. If both defect, both get one point. If one defects and once cooperates, the defector gets five points while the other gets none. The player with the most points is considered to be the winner. When looked at this way, it is clear that defecting always either ties or wins but never loses, whereas cooperating either ties or loses but never wins. So, where's this "dilemma"?
Where the dilemma comes in is when the game is infinitely iterated, or played over and over again for all eternity, and both players remember previous rounds. For the people thinking about this as numbers, the points are cumulative and the player with the most points after any round is "winning" at that point. The dilemma is the possibility of retribution. Simply stated, the question arises that if one player defects in any given round to hurt the other player, then will the other player defect later for vengeance?
The infinite part is important here. For instance, if two people knew that they were going to play ten rounds, then the logical choice in the tenth round for both is to defect because there is no chance of further retaliation. Similarly, in the ninth round, since they both know they will defect in the tenth, the logical choice is to defect in the ninth round, and so on all the way back to the first round. But when the game is played an infinite number of times that logic fails, as there will always be one more round in which one player could have vengeance on the other. Do, however, note that playing the game for an unknown number of rounds has the same effect.
Now, why all this inane mathematical blather? Well, first and foremost it is because I happen to like inane mathematical blather quite a bit, thank you. But also I saw an interesting situation in which this form naturally arises: the relationship between two lovers. Think of every meeting between the lovers, whether a romantic date, a chance meeting, or anything inbetween, as a round of the game. Either lover can choose to be with the other (to "cooperate"), or to blow the other off (to "defect"). Neither lover knows for a fact, but must assume that there will be another encounter, so the infinite logic must be applied. If individual happiness is used as the measuring stick against which all outcomes are measured, the values of all of the outcomes are the same.
If both lovers cooperate, they both receive the value of being with each other. I justify the fact that, while this is the highest value for both combined, this is not the highest individual value for a couple of reasons. First, we all know that there many meetings which are the of the mundane, daily variety, and there are inevitably ones where one is simply appeasing the other, detracting from its value. Second, while every person has their qualities admired by their lover, every person also has idiosyncrasies that are best known and found most irritating by their lover. This is not to say that there are not high value meetings, but to say that they are not always high value. There are other things that one would want to do if they did not have to consider the other. Hence relationships involve sacrifice.
If one lover defects, then the defecting lover gets to do what they want without regard for the other, which yields the greatest value in individual happiness. If they are willing to blow off their lover, they are clearly not concerned with hurting them and suffer no negative consequences from it. On the other hand, the cooperating lover is left high and dry, which yields no individual happiness. One could easily argue that the effect is actually negative to the cooperating lover, and they would be correct, but I'll keep it simple, like the above model, and just say it gives none.
I say that the defector suffers no negative consequences, but I should qualify that statement. The defector suffers no immediate negative consequences. Since there will always be another round, the possibility of retribution is always present. This can, of course, degrade into a vicious cycle, so one lover at some point must forgive and forget in order to break out of the cycle.
If both lovers defect, then they do get to do what they want, which gives the outcome some value, but that value for each is tainted and significantly reduced by the knowledge that the other decided to blow them off. Having done it themselves, both lovers obviously know the selfish lack of consideration involved in defecting, and therefore, similar to both cooperating, the value of this outcome is equal for both, but less than the value of cooperation.
Lastly, the game must at some point end since humans are finite beings. There is the one involuntary ending, which is when one lover dies. This is not meant as a negative ending: may people have played this game with their lovers for decades before being forced to end it. The more interesting ending is the voluntary one: the one where one lover decides that the spread is too great and either claims victory or admits defeat. This ending is interesting because both are consummated by the same act, that of one lover removing themselves from the game in an act of total defection, and because either lover's perception of whether it was victory or defeat is never directly admitted, at least to the other, as neither lover is generally willing to tip their hand and reveal their scorecard. One may argue that eventually the scorecard is shown in the aftermath of the relationship, but I argue that the aftermath, as well as any fight during the relationship, is better understood by brinkmanship, in which tipping some of one's cards is used, but never the whole hand. I won't get into all that, but you can look it up on Wikipedia as well. I'll leave it as an "exercise for the reader".
What is the point of this inane analogistic blather? Firstly, so I can find a use for my newly made up word "analogistic", but secondly, and more relevantly, it is to ask a few questions. I do not want to know your answers, but only for you to ask them of yourselves. Think about past and current lovers, and imagine future lovers. What do your scorecards say and what does that say about you? More importantly, what do you lovers' scorecards say, and what does that say about you? Most importantly, are you satisfied with those cards or have you been caught in the Lover's Dilemma?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Dear Facebook
From: Facebook
Subj: Dear Facebook
Dear Facebook,
I really love Facebook
mobile. It's great to
see when peopl...(Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:37PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...eople poke me and
to be able to poke
them back, to be able
to see my messages
and to b... (Reply 'n' for
next)
Received: 4:38PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
... o be able to
message back, and
to even be able to
accept or reject
friend requ... (Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:39PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...quests all from my
cell phone. Despite
the convenience, I
think there are tw...
(Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:40PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
... two small changes
to the handling of
extended messages
that I believe would
greatly impro... (Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:41PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...prove the service.
First, I understand
that long messages
need to be broken
up into s... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:42PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...o smaller messages,
but it is slightly more
than mildly irritating
that messages are
inevitab... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:43PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...vitably broken
mid-word, instead of
at the whitespace
between words.
Second, there
ar... (Reply 'n' for
next)
Received: 4:44PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
... are some messages
that I want to read and
some I don't. It would
be nice if, for messages
that are more tha... (Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:45PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...han one page long,
envelope information
was sent, such as the
sender, the subject, and
how many pages the
mess... (Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:46PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...essage is instead
of the text of the
message. If a
message is twenty
seven pages long, I'd
ra... (Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:47PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ther sit at a computer
wondering why this
guy won't shut up
instead of sending
twenty six "n"
messag... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:48PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ssages and wondering
why this guy won't shut up.
Again, while I love
Facebook mobile without
these features, I think all
users coul... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:49PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ould benefit from
these improvements.
Sincerely,
Jonathan Brya...
(Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:50PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ryant
Received: 4:51PM
Subj: Dear Facebook
Dear Facebook,
I really love Facebook
mobile. It's great to
see when peopl...(Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:37PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...eople poke me and
to be able to poke
them back, to be able
to see my messages
and to b... (Reply 'n' for
next)
Received: 4:38PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
... o be able to
message back, and
to even be able to
accept or reject
friend requ... (Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:39PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...quests all from my
cell phone. Despite
the convenience, I
think there are tw...
(Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:40PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
... two small changes
to the handling of
extended messages
that I believe would
greatly impro... (Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:41PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...prove the service.
First, I understand
that long messages
need to be broken
up into s... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:42PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...o smaller messages,
but it is slightly more
than mildly irritating
that messages are
inevitab... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:43PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...vitably broken
mid-word, instead of
at the whitespace
between words.
Second, there
ar... (Reply 'n' for
next)
Received: 4:44PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
... are some messages
that I want to read and
some I don't. It would
be nice if, for messages
that are more tha... (Reply
'n' for next)
Received: 4:45PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...han one page long,
envelope information
was sent, such as the
sender, the subject, and
how many pages the
mess... (Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:46PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...essage is instead
of the text of the
message. If a
message is twenty
seven pages long, I'd
ra... (Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:47PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ther sit at a computer
wondering why this
guy won't shut up
instead of sending
twenty six "n"
messag... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:48PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ssages and wondering
why this guy won't shut up.
Again, while I love
Facebook mobile without
these features, I think all
users coul... (Reply 'n'
for next)
Received: 4:49PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ould benefit from
these improvements.
Sincerely,
Jonathan Brya...
(Reply 'n' for next)
Received: 4:50PM
* Options *
* Reply *
"66"
* Send *
* Wait *
* New Message *
* Read *
From: Facebook
...ryant
Received: 4:51PM
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Blazers Defeat Wildcats in 69-0 Blowout!
The Fort Valley Wildcats went down.
Hard.
After nailing the Albany State Golden Rams with a 41-3 victory last week, the Valdosta State Blazers came on the field at Fort Valley ready for action. And action is exactly what they got when they caught the Wildcats with their pants down. During the first half, Valdosta's passing game kept balls in the air and their running game kept slipping through the cracks of Fort Valley's Maginot Line like defense. The Wildcats choked for two quarters as the Blazers' offense exploded in their face and defense attacked them from behind. The Valdosta offense easily spread the Wildcats' weak defenses enabling runners to shoot up the middle in search of the end zone, and the sadly unprotected Fort Valley quarterback was sacked repeatedly by various members of the turgid Valdosta defensive line. When the Wildcats retreated to their locker room at halftime already worn out from the not-so-gentle foreplay of the first half, little did they know what was in store for them during the rest of the evening's encounter.
Fort Valley's second half was no less obscene of a gesture at performance than the first. After their inability to score in the first half, the Wildcats' only hope was to come back in the second and not look like a virgin team who had never touched a ball before. Unfortunately, their attempt at appearing nubile was thwarted by the far greater experience and prowess of the Blazers. The Wildcats' uncoordinated, fumbling defense was penetrated again and again, yielding yet another safety in the second half just as they had clumsily done in the first. The endurance of the Blazers' relentless pounding was apparent even late into the game as the third string continued to stiff Fort Valley's flaccid defense. The entire experience left the Wildcats with nothing more than bruised, aching bodies and the sour taste of defeat in their mouths.
As the spent Wildcats lay limp and panting in messy aftermath of their Trojan-esque decimation, it was apparent that the domination of the Blazers had achieved not just a decisive victory, but had forced the total submission of the Wildcats' now utterly spent team. In the first two games of the season, the the Blazers have scored 110 points while holding partners to 3, scoring more in two games than some teams score all season, convincing many of their ability to lick any team they are coupled with.
B-L-A-Z-E-R-S! Go, Blazers, Go!
Hard.
After nailing the Albany State Golden Rams with a 41-3 victory last week, the Valdosta State Blazers came on the field at Fort Valley ready for action. And action is exactly what they got when they caught the Wildcats with their pants down. During the first half, Valdosta's passing game kept balls in the air and their running game kept slipping through the cracks of Fort Valley's Maginot Line like defense. The Wildcats choked for two quarters as the Blazers' offense exploded in their face and defense attacked them from behind. The Valdosta offense easily spread the Wildcats' weak defenses enabling runners to shoot up the middle in search of the end zone, and the sadly unprotected Fort Valley quarterback was sacked repeatedly by various members of the turgid Valdosta defensive line. When the Wildcats retreated to their locker room at halftime already worn out from the not-so-gentle foreplay of the first half, little did they know what was in store for them during the rest of the evening's encounter.
Fort Valley's second half was no less obscene of a gesture at performance than the first. After their inability to score in the first half, the Wildcats' only hope was to come back in the second and not look like a virgin team who had never touched a ball before. Unfortunately, their attempt at appearing nubile was thwarted by the far greater experience and prowess of the Blazers. The Wildcats' uncoordinated, fumbling defense was penetrated again and again, yielding yet another safety in the second half just as they had clumsily done in the first. The endurance of the Blazers' relentless pounding was apparent even late into the game as the third string continued to stiff Fort Valley's flaccid defense. The entire experience left the Wildcats with nothing more than bruised, aching bodies and the sour taste of defeat in their mouths.
As the spent Wildcats lay limp and panting in messy aftermath of their Trojan-esque decimation, it was apparent that the domination of the Blazers had achieved not just a decisive victory, but had forced the total submission of the Wildcats' now utterly spent team. In the first two games of the season, the the Blazers have scored 110 points while holding partners to 3, scoring more in two games than some teams score all season, convincing many of their ability to lick any team they are coupled with.
B-L-A-Z-E-R-S! Go, Blazers, Go!
Sunday, August 27, 2006
My faith in the continued existence of mankind on this planet has sunk to an all time low.
Today I was hungry and went to McDonald's. This is not an unusual occurrence, and it is never a terribly pleasant experience, but today it was beyond belief. As a matter of fact, it was so bad that it bears repeating.
First off, it's already disturbing that go in I expect bad food and even worse service. I remember being trained at Publix about the importance of customer service (especially the video "The Guest") and actually remember people whom I thought were nice to customers not getting raises on the grounds that their customer service was not good enough, but I have let my standards slip recently. I have become more and more tolerant of poor service and less and less willing to complain about it. Despite this, I usually hold that at least a few things should happen when I go out to eat:
1. I should be acknowledged as extant.
2. I should be able to comprehend the dialect of the English language the employee is speaking.
3. The employee to whom I am speaking should be able to comprehend the dialect of English I'm speaking.
4. I should be charged approximately the right price.
5. The manager should apologize for mistakes when the manager is needed in order to correct them.
6. Employees handling cash should be able to perform basic arithmetic.
7. My order should be served in a timely fashion and should be generally correct.
Every last one of these standards was apparently on holiday during my trip to McDonald's today. One at at time:
#1) When I walked up to the counter, I was looking at a maybe 16 year old kid with pants falling off of him, shirt halfway tucked in, two of the top three buttons undone and the rest of buttons buttoned one hole off, and a tie slung around his neck so loosely that it was obvious he had neither untied it since the last time he wore it nor bothered to tighten it after he slipped it over his head. I was looking at him, but all I received in return was a blank stare. It would have been nice to receive a "Welcome to McDonald's!" or just a "Welcome!". Even a "Whaddaya want?" would have been better than nothing. Since no words were exchanged, I started to place my order.
"Hello. I'd like a num...." is as far as I got. Without a word he turned and walked away.
After the initial shock wore off, I flagged down the kid to let him know that I was ready to order. He continued his conversation with his coworker for a little while and finally came over, stood behind the register and resumed giving me a blank stare.
#2, #3) "I'd like a number one with no pickles, large please." I said.
"Damealordasamish?" came the interruption.
It took me a second to decipher exactly what was said, but could tell by the tone of the kid's voice that it was supposed to be a question. When I realized that he had asked "The meal or the sandwich?", my immediate mental response was this: What?! It's already sad that they have simplified the menus to the point where you can order by number, but this question is ludicrous. If I had said "A BigMac combo", it would have been possible, although not very plausable, that he could have not heard the word "combo" and the question would have some merit, but I used the combo's number. Completely unambiguous? Apparently not.
"The meal, please. And a double cheeseburger, also without pickles." I responded
"Whadchsay?" At this point, I was convinced that the boy was speaking Klingon.
"Huh?"
"Wha .... cha .... say?" he said in a noticeably surly and irritated tone.
"Oh. The meal. And a double cheeseburger, also no pickles." I repeated patiently.
"Nahpicka?" he said. At this point, before I could decipher the question, let alone answer it, he turned around and cupped his hands over his mouth.
"Niggadabimacandubnahpicka!" Pause. "Yeanahpicka!" he shouted to the coworker to whom he had been talking earlier. I had personally assumed that that information would have shown up on the appropriate screen in the food preparation area, but I'll assume that it doesn't and the yelling was necessary.
#4) While the shouting match was going on, I had peremptorily swiped my debit card in the little machine they have for doing so. This whole idea is also pretty stupid, similar to banks charging you an ATM fee for giving you the privilege of doing a teller's job yourself. Doing this early turned out to be a bad idea.
The employee finished ringing up my order and I just happened to look at the display on the register for the split second my total showed up before my account was debited. $12.40 it said. I did some basic research on the menus and some even more basic arithmetic in my head. Something was wrong. $4.39 for the combo, plus a generously estimated $1.00 to make it large (since the additional cost was not listed on the menu), plus $1.00 for the double cheeseburger is $6.39, plus a generously estimated 7% tax at about 35 cents. Grand total: $6.74, not $12.40.
"Yawannaresee?"
"Yes, I would love a receipt."
A quick examination of the cryptic shorthand on the greasy, blurred receipt revealed the source of the problem. I was charged for an extra double cheeseburger ( + $1.00), and, in addition to the combo, an separate Big Mac and a separate large order of french fries. I also noticed that nowhere on the receipt did it say anything about not wanting pickles. Ah, hence all the yelling.
"Excuse me, but this isn't correct." I said to -- no one. It turns out in the five seconds it had taken me to examine the receipt and determine the problem, the employee had disappeared. I looked around and saw him behind the drink machine staring off into space as if he were trying to look at something on just the other side of Pluto.
"Excuse me," I repeated, "but this isn't correct."
He meandered over and snatched the receipt out of my hand. "Whaddayamea?"
"I asked for a number one, large, no pickles, and a double cheeseburger, also without pickles." I repeated
"Awww.... Shi......" At least this wasn't a garbled blur of under-enunciated phonemes. He then walked away with the receipt. I was praying that he was going to get the manager. It should be noted here that you should be careful what you wish for because you just may get it.
#5) Up to the counter sauntered the day shift manager. She seemed only slightly less under-qualified to be employed by McDonald's. She had a similar mildly groomed appearance and an identical blank stare. She exerted the full force of that hollow gaze squarely upon me. After about 10 seconds of silence, I decided to get the ball rolling.
"I was ov...." was as far as I got before she broke her stare with me and started violently tapping away at the touch screen.
"Which you be?" she said, pointing at the touch screen with a rather baffled look on her face. I would like to point out that, in the hand she was not using to abuse the register, she was holding the receipt. I let that slide. Also, the screen was facing away from me. I let that slide as well.
"I ordered a number one, large, no pickles, and a double cheeseburger, also no pickles." For those keeping track, that was the third time I had repeated my order in its entirety. She shot a look at me over the register as if to say what she said immediately after giving me the look.
"And...?"
"And I was charged over $12 dollars. That should have cost less than $7."
She went back to punching things into the register and, after a few seconds, signaled to the cashier something vaguely resembling "It's fixed," held up a finger to me as if to say "Just one moment, please," (I'm being very generous here) and meandered back to the back of the store. Little did I know that this was not my last interaction with this wonderfully sunny person.
#6) The cashier came back to the register and started dealing with the next irritated customer, an older man whom I had seen eating when I came in. He ordered something he had apparently forgotten to order earlier, and the total came to $1.07, which I checked against the menu and which was, surprisingly, correct.
"Here's $1.12." the older man said, as he handed the boy a $1 bill, a dime, and two pennies. I actually watched the man count out the money, so I can verify that he handed the cashier exactly what he said he did. When the order was completed, the register drawer opened and the boy gave me back the refund. At least that was cleared up. The boy then took the man's money, dropped it in the register and, without a second thought, handed the man back four pennies. I think I actually heard the man think "Did he really just do that?", as I quickly counted my refund for errors. I then realized that this was futile, because I had never been told the correct amount and could not know if I had been short changed, again. I gave up on counting. For the better part of the next minute, the man patiently explained that he had given the boy $1.12 to get rid of pennies and that the change was supposed to be a nickel. I believe that at one point I actually heard the cashier say "Disainnobank!" In the end, the man just gave up and grumbled as he went back to his seat to wait for his food.
After the man had given up all hope and sat down, I somehow managed to get the boy's attention and ask for my cup. The boy sighed and slowly, and with an apparently exorbitant amount of effort on his part, reached under the counter and produced a medium cup.
"I ordered a large."
"Didcha?"
"Yes."
Eyeing me suspiciously, he shoved the medium cup back under the counter and tossed a large one onto the counter.
Only then did it strike me: why did the man go and sit down and wait for his food? Last time I checked, McDonald's was a fast food restaurant. I found out later exactly why this should be the basis of a lawsuit against McDonald's for the violation of federal "false advertisement" laws.
#7) I walked over to the self service drink machine. Again, why am I doing all of this work myself after paying for the drink? I poured my drink, grabbed a lid and a straw, and waited, sipping idly on my drink. And I waited, sipping idly on my drink. I noticed the manager come out and throw something onto the counter, but it wasn't my order so I waited, sipping idly on my dr... slurp. On my dr.. slurp. Slurp. I refilled my drink, and waited, sipping irritatedly on my second large drink.
Finally some food was tossed on the counter which looked vaguely like my order. I decided to investigate. It turns out it was my order and I picked up the tray. As I did, the manager popped out from behind the ice machine and a grunted at me. Yes, grunted.
#5 again) "Eh!" she grunted at me, pointing to what I now noticed was two identical slips of paper, equal in greasiness and blurriness to the receipt, and a pen. I looked at them and made out the words "Customer refund slip", more of the cryptic order text, and a line that said "Customer signature".
"Am I supposed to sign?" I asked, by this point not even bothering to mask my aggravation.
"Uh huh." she said as she started blankly at the same something on the far side of Pluto that the cashier had been staring at earlier.
"Do I need to sign both or just one?" I was getting really tired of this.
"One." Complete sentences were obviously beyond her by this point.
I signed, put down the pen, and made enough eye contact with her that she came and took the receipt, picking it up in such a way that it was completely crumpled. As I watched her saunter off, I shook my head in despair, picked up my tray, and was stuck by the jagged edge of the broken corner of the tray.
#7 again) I found a reasonably clean seat, sat down, and started to eat. My first bite of the Big Mac was exactly as expected: drenched in the taste of pickles. I patiently picked off all of the extra pickles from both my Big Mac and the double cheeseburger, and started to eat again. Just then, someone decided that it would be a good idea to turn on the music. Just when I thought I was done being irritated, I was now listening to blaring Kenny G on a speaker with a very noisy short in it.
Is all of this too much to ask? Does it really take that much effort for employees to do the absolutely minimal amount of work that their employers are paying them to do? Apparently, based on the observable clues, the answer is a resounding "yes" on both counts. I honestly think that mankind has found a way to defeat natural selection by allowing people such as these particular McDonald's employees to no only survive, but flourish. Charles Darwin: 0, the stupidity of mankind: 1. We're all doomed.
First off, it's already disturbing that go in I expect bad food and even worse service. I remember being trained at Publix about the importance of customer service (especially the video "The Guest") and actually remember people whom I thought were nice to customers not getting raises on the grounds that their customer service was not good enough, but I have let my standards slip recently. I have become more and more tolerant of poor service and less and less willing to complain about it. Despite this, I usually hold that at least a few things should happen when I go out to eat:
1. I should be acknowledged as extant.
2. I should be able to comprehend the dialect of the English language the employee is speaking.
3. The employee to whom I am speaking should be able to comprehend the dialect of English I'm speaking.
4. I should be charged approximately the right price.
5. The manager should apologize for mistakes when the manager is needed in order to correct them.
6. Employees handling cash should be able to perform basic arithmetic.
7. My order should be served in a timely fashion and should be generally correct.
Every last one of these standards was apparently on holiday during my trip to McDonald's today. One at at time:
#1) When I walked up to the counter, I was looking at a maybe 16 year old kid with pants falling off of him, shirt halfway tucked in, two of the top three buttons undone and the rest of buttons buttoned one hole off, and a tie slung around his neck so loosely that it was obvious he had neither untied it since the last time he wore it nor bothered to tighten it after he slipped it over his head. I was looking at him, but all I received in return was a blank stare. It would have been nice to receive a "Welcome to McDonald's!" or just a "Welcome!". Even a "Whaddaya want?" would have been better than nothing. Since no words were exchanged, I started to place my order.
"Hello. I'd like a num...." is as far as I got. Without a word he turned and walked away.
After the initial shock wore off, I flagged down the kid to let him know that I was ready to order. He continued his conversation with his coworker for a little while and finally came over, stood behind the register and resumed giving me a blank stare.
#2, #3) "I'd like a number one with no pickles, large please." I said.
"Damealordasamish?" came the interruption.
It took me a second to decipher exactly what was said, but could tell by the tone of the kid's voice that it was supposed to be a question. When I realized that he had asked "The meal or the sandwich?", my immediate mental response was this: What?! It's already sad that they have simplified the menus to the point where you can order by number, but this question is ludicrous. If I had said "A BigMac combo", it would have been possible, although not very plausable, that he could have not heard the word "combo" and the question would have some merit, but I used the combo's number. Completely unambiguous? Apparently not.
"The meal, please. And a double cheeseburger, also without pickles." I responded
"Whadchsay?" At this point, I was convinced that the boy was speaking Klingon.
"Huh?"
"Wha .... cha .... say?" he said in a noticeably surly and irritated tone.
"Oh. The meal. And a double cheeseburger, also no pickles." I repeated patiently.
"Nahpicka?" he said. At this point, before I could decipher the question, let alone answer it, he turned around and cupped his hands over his mouth.
"Niggadabimacandubnahpicka!" Pause. "Yeanahpicka!" he shouted to the coworker to whom he had been talking earlier. I had personally assumed that that information would have shown up on the appropriate screen in the food preparation area, but I'll assume that it doesn't and the yelling was necessary.
#4) While the shouting match was going on, I had peremptorily swiped my debit card in the little machine they have for doing so. This whole idea is also pretty stupid, similar to banks charging you an ATM fee for giving you the privilege of doing a teller's job yourself. Doing this early turned out to be a bad idea.
The employee finished ringing up my order and I just happened to look at the display on the register for the split second my total showed up before my account was debited. $12.40 it said. I did some basic research on the menus and some even more basic arithmetic in my head. Something was wrong. $4.39 for the combo, plus a generously estimated $1.00 to make it large (since the additional cost was not listed on the menu), plus $1.00 for the double cheeseburger is $6.39, plus a generously estimated 7% tax at about 35 cents. Grand total: $6.74, not $12.40.
"Yawannaresee?"
"Yes, I would love a receipt."
A quick examination of the cryptic shorthand on the greasy, blurred receipt revealed the source of the problem. I was charged for an extra double cheeseburger ( + $1.00), and, in addition to the combo, an separate Big Mac and a separate large order of french fries. I also noticed that nowhere on the receipt did it say anything about not wanting pickles. Ah, hence all the yelling.
"Excuse me, but this isn't correct." I said to -- no one. It turns out in the five seconds it had taken me to examine the receipt and determine the problem, the employee had disappeared. I looked around and saw him behind the drink machine staring off into space as if he were trying to look at something on just the other side of Pluto.
"Excuse me," I repeated, "but this isn't correct."
He meandered over and snatched the receipt out of my hand. "Whaddayamea?"
"I asked for a number one, large, no pickles, and a double cheeseburger, also without pickles." I repeated
"Awww.... Shi......" At least this wasn't a garbled blur of under-enunciated phonemes. He then walked away with the receipt. I was praying that he was going to get the manager. It should be noted here that you should be careful what you wish for because you just may get it.
#5) Up to the counter sauntered the day shift manager. She seemed only slightly less under-qualified to be employed by McDonald's. She had a similar mildly groomed appearance and an identical blank stare. She exerted the full force of that hollow gaze squarely upon me. After about 10 seconds of silence, I decided to get the ball rolling.
"I was ov...." was as far as I got before she broke her stare with me and started violently tapping away at the touch screen.
"Which you be?" she said, pointing at the touch screen with a rather baffled look on her face. I would like to point out that, in the hand she was not using to abuse the register, she was holding the receipt. I let that slide. Also, the screen was facing away from me. I let that slide as well.
"I ordered a number one, large, no pickles, and a double cheeseburger, also no pickles." For those keeping track, that was the third time I had repeated my order in its entirety. She shot a look at me over the register as if to say what she said immediately after giving me the look.
"And...?"
"And I was charged over $12 dollars. That should have cost less than $7."
She went back to punching things into the register and, after a few seconds, signaled to the cashier something vaguely resembling "It's fixed," held up a finger to me as if to say "Just one moment, please," (I'm being very generous here) and meandered back to the back of the store. Little did I know that this was not my last interaction with this wonderfully sunny person.
#6) The cashier came back to the register and started dealing with the next irritated customer, an older man whom I had seen eating when I came in. He ordered something he had apparently forgotten to order earlier, and the total came to $1.07, which I checked against the menu and which was, surprisingly, correct.
"Here's $1.12." the older man said, as he handed the boy a $1 bill, a dime, and two pennies. I actually watched the man count out the money, so I can verify that he handed the cashier exactly what he said he did. When the order was completed, the register drawer opened and the boy gave me back the refund. At least that was cleared up. The boy then took the man's money, dropped it in the register and, without a second thought, handed the man back four pennies. I think I actually heard the man think "Did he really just do that?", as I quickly counted my refund for errors. I then realized that this was futile, because I had never been told the correct amount and could not know if I had been short changed, again. I gave up on counting. For the better part of the next minute, the man patiently explained that he had given the boy $1.12 to get rid of pennies and that the change was supposed to be a nickel. I believe that at one point I actually heard the cashier say "Disainnobank!" In the end, the man just gave up and grumbled as he went back to his seat to wait for his food.
After the man had given up all hope and sat down, I somehow managed to get the boy's attention and ask for my cup. The boy sighed and slowly, and with an apparently exorbitant amount of effort on his part, reached under the counter and produced a medium cup.
"I ordered a large."
"Didcha?"
"Yes."
Eyeing me suspiciously, he shoved the medium cup back under the counter and tossed a large one onto the counter.
Only then did it strike me: why did the man go and sit down and wait for his food? Last time I checked, McDonald's was a fast food restaurant. I found out later exactly why this should be the basis of a lawsuit against McDonald's for the violation of federal "false advertisement" laws.
#7) I walked over to the self service drink machine. Again, why am I doing all of this work myself after paying for the drink? I poured my drink, grabbed a lid and a straw, and waited, sipping idly on my drink. And I waited, sipping idly on my drink. I noticed the manager come out and throw something onto the counter, but it wasn't my order so I waited, sipping idly on my dr... slurp. On my dr.. slurp. Slurp. I refilled my drink, and waited, sipping irritatedly on my second large drink.
Finally some food was tossed on the counter which looked vaguely like my order. I decided to investigate. It turns out it was my order and I picked up the tray. As I did, the manager popped out from behind the ice machine and a grunted at me. Yes, grunted.
#5 again) "Eh!" she grunted at me, pointing to what I now noticed was two identical slips of paper, equal in greasiness and blurriness to the receipt, and a pen. I looked at them and made out the words "Customer refund slip", more of the cryptic order text, and a line that said "Customer signature".
"Am I supposed to sign?" I asked, by this point not even bothering to mask my aggravation.
"Uh huh." she said as she started blankly at the same something on the far side of Pluto that the cashier had been staring at earlier.
"Do I need to sign both or just one?" I was getting really tired of this.
"One." Complete sentences were obviously beyond her by this point.
I signed, put down the pen, and made enough eye contact with her that she came and took the receipt, picking it up in such a way that it was completely crumpled. As I watched her saunter off, I shook my head in despair, picked up my tray, and was stuck by the jagged edge of the broken corner of the tray.
#7 again) I found a reasonably clean seat, sat down, and started to eat. My first bite of the Big Mac was exactly as expected: drenched in the taste of pickles. I patiently picked off all of the extra pickles from both my Big Mac and the double cheeseburger, and started to eat again. Just then, someone decided that it would be a good idea to turn on the music. Just when I thought I was done being irritated, I was now listening to blaring Kenny G on a speaker with a very noisy short in it.
Is all of this too much to ask? Does it really take that much effort for employees to do the absolutely minimal amount of work that their employers are paying them to do? Apparently, based on the observable clues, the answer is a resounding "yes" on both counts. I honestly think that mankind has found a way to defeat natural selection by allowing people such as these particular McDonald's employees to no only survive, but flourish. Charles Darwin: 0, the stupidity of mankind: 1. We're all doomed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)