Room to grow, McDonald’s.

Dear McDonalds:

I love your Egg McMuffins, and I’m thrilled about the return of the McRib.

Also, when I needed a job after being kicked out of my home following high school, you were there for me.

When I needed a job that allowed me to attend college full time while still working full time, you made that possible.

You made me a restaurant manager while I was still in high school, and for the next decade, you gave me a chance to work and grow. I learned to manage people, delegate, motivate, operate a business, manage a profit/loss statement, and work incredibly hard. It was the most difficult job that I’ve ever done, but it taught me more lessons than any other experience in my life, and I met some truly extraordinary people along the way.

Yes, it’s true. My McDonald’s career also resulted in my arrest and trial for a crime I did not commit. It indirectly led to my homelessness. But that wasn’t really your fault, though testifying against me at my trial kind of sucked.

And yes, it’s also true that I was the victim of an armed robbery while managing one of your restaurants that has left me with a lifetime of PTSD.

It hasn’t all been as good as the Egg McMuffin or the McRib, but still, I’m grateful.

But do me a favor:

Please stop asking if the Happy Meal that I just ordered for my son is for a boy or girl. Toys can be played with by anyone, regardless of sex or gender.

It’s 2020, dummy. Not 1950.

Also. how in hell did you decide to define this particular item as a boy’s toy?