Well, years ago I went down
to MacDonald's in the Embarcadero
in SF for breakfast,
and I read the menu and felt hungry,
but didn't want to just give myself
to the huge, corporate Octopus,
so instead of ordering the Hotcakes
on the menu, I said
'I'll have an order of Flapjacks! '
'Flapjacks? ' said the counter guy.
'We don't have Flapjacks!
We just have Hotcakes.'
'Well, I want Flapjacks, ' I said.
'Bring me Flapjacks,
or say goodbye
to my business. Maybe
I should talk
to the Manager.'
The Manager came out.
'May I help you, sir? '
'Yes, I want Flapjacks! I was told
you only have Hotcakes. That's
not what I want.'
He flashed
a Manager's smile.
'One order of Flapjacks
coming up! ' he said.
And thus, a manager is born...you know, the one with a brain, and who knows more than what is on the menu! Thanks Max. for reminding me there really are people in the world with BRAINS! By the way, did they have griddle cakes as well?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I slice of everyday life which tells the reader a lot more about you and your capacity to take life less that seriously, than the corporate giant you are making fun of in this lighthearted serve (delicious with maple syrup too) . What's in a name, eh? That which we in Oz call a pancake, or pikelet would taste just as good, methinks. Great poem. love, Allie xxxx