Fast Food, Slow Progress

Can your family survive on fast food worker wages? That’s the question do-gooder icon Mother Jones put to readers recently, and although it’s a cliche, the answer really might surprise you. It might, in fact, horrify you. It sure did me.

Struggles by fast food workers for a living wage have been in the news for some time. Unlike waitstaff in traditional restaurants, they either don’t earn tips or earn negligible amounts ($15 a week was average when I worked for Starbucks twenty years ago).

Minimum wage is survivable provided one has a secure, affordable living situation and guaranteed hours, but guaranteed hours are a rarity in the industry. In the UK, McDonalds has made front page news for its commitment to so-called zero hour contracts which offer the workers anything from no work to overtime, as it suits the employer. Labour MP Andy Sawford responds, “In the ordering of their food they know how to identify customer levels so they cook the right amount, so they could use that same information with staff levels and give employees more certainty.”

This week, fast food workers around the country are set for escalating job action in New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Detroit, Milwaukee, Kansas City and Flint, demanding a wage of $15 an hour and the right to unionize without management interference. The actions are supported and coordinated by the Service Employees International Union. “We are slowly dying,” striker Terrence Wise told Democracy Now.

So what does it actually take to live on a fast food salary, if the right wing media is to be believed and granting the wage increase would cripple the nation’s Happy Meal capability, leading to a dangerous international burger imbalance?

The Mother Jones calculator queries your household size (just me and the cats, but they’re big eaters), your state (Canuckistan, but I picked Washington because, well, I’ve been there and it looks a lot like Vancouver), your city (provided your household is larger than one; singles it seems can fit in anywhere), and how much you make in a year (good question; I estimated $30,000 this year). Then it spits out a rather shocking statistic.

To earn $30,000 a year working as a fast food worker, I’d have to work 64 hours a week. The average number of hours a fast food employee receives is less than 25, and I have seven years at Starbucks that confirm it.

A household like yours in Washington needs to earn $18,245 annually to make a secure yet modest living. A fast-food worker working full time would have to earn $8.74 an hour to make that much.

The average fast-food employee works less than 25 hours a week. To make a living wage in Washington at current median wages, s/he would have to work 39 hours a week.

In 39 hours, McDonald’s serves 112,125,000 customers and makes $122,394,480. That’s about 30,598,620 Big Macs.

As author Barbara Ehrenreich pointed out in her book Nickel and Dimed, while companies repeatedly claim their employees like the flexibility of the scheduling, interviews with the actual employees indicate a labor force that would prefer standardized hours, preferably full time. With an increasing proportion of breadwinners vs students in the staffing pool, that demand is a very real call to action and challenge to the industry. ThinkProgress reports that if hourly wages on the front line doubled, the price of a Big Mac would go up a whopping (see what I did there) 68 cents.

While six-figure think tankers continue to wrestle with the problem, the Pew Research Center reveals that women are the primary breadwinners in 40% of US families, and that the average income for a single mother who has never married is $17,400.

She’d better get a second, or a third, job.

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but broccoli is a robber’s best friend.

Emeralds for elephants yes you read that right

Emeralds for elephants yes you read that right

Just a couple of jewel robbery anecdotes, the first from the Tatler magazine, which used to be the most breathtakingly glamorous and vaguely scandalous thing out there. Ah, that was a long time ago. Now it’s Town and Country, with worse teeth. Both posts inspired by this dazzling jewel robbery on the Riviera, where by tradition all dazzling jewel robberies take place.

You know, on the one hand crime=bad. On the other, COOOOOOOOL!

I don’t know why, but why not? Non-violent jewel robberies are beautiful, beautiful things. There are some great stories out of London; in one case, a big emerald stone went missing while a shifty, Arab-looking man had been looking at a tray of loose stones. They stopped him, locked the doors, called the police, and had him searched thoroughly. The entire time he loudly protested his innocence and outrage and threatened to sue them. They couldn’t find a thing, inside him or out, so they had to let him go. A week later the cleaning woman found a wad of gum under the counter where he’d been looking at the gems, with the outline of that emerald pressed into it. He had a conspirator come by later and retrieve the stone from its ingenious hiding place.

and the second story, more a piece of advice really. But thanks, Officer Friendly!

I was working at Starbucks, and one day the bank a few doors down was held up. The bank staff holed up at our store, drinking cocoa and shaking, and the cops holed up at another table to discuss the case. One went up and placed their order, and I was working bar, which gives you a chance to chat to people. The cop came up to me to pick up the drinks and he said, “Promise me something.” I said okay, because I have a thing for men in uniform, and he said, “Promise me you won’t rob a bank.”

I said OK, because that had not been in my plans anyway.

He said, “Promise me you’ll rob a grocery store instead.” All of a sudden this conversation had become MUCH more interesting. I asked him why a grocery store.

“Because if you rob a bank you’ll get, at most $1800 and a minimum of five years. If you rob one of the big grocery store chains on a Friday night, you’ll get $20,000 minimum, and a maximum of 18 months.”

Well, thank you Officer Friendly. Noted.

Make your career plans accordingly.

From the Department of “We’re All Fucked”

Flying Orca Flying Dolphin THEY ARE COMING!!!

Flying Orca Flying Dolphin THEY ARE COMING!!!

I WARNED YOU ALL!!!! I warned you, and you laughed, didn’t you, or at least you lol’d and posted it to Twitter. I know you, you and your lol-ing, Twitter-posting ways.

But you didn’t take it seriously, and now look what’s happened while you were off posting cat pictures to Facebook: they’ve begun to spread. The first Flying Orca, as previously reported, was spotted in BC, as was the first known Flying Humpback Whale. The Cascadia region is a well-known refuge for cryptids, from the noble Sasquatch to the mighty Ogopogo, and not forgetting the endangered Pacific Tree Octopus. Now according to the Daily Mail, the terrifying Flying Orca been spotted off the coast of Mexico. Obviously they have a means of long-distance communication that not even the NSA can detect!

Meanwhile, under the sea, all has become a deranged orgy of climate change-inspired breeding and cannibalism! It’s like a Russ Myers/Roger Corman film starring the Deep Ones!

But it gets worse.

Just as normally-submarine predators have taken to the skies, so too have voracious land-based killing machines begun to encroach on environments in which they were previously unknown.

That’s right: you are not safe on the land, in the air, or on the sea. Sleep well. As for me, I’m off to buy a shovel and start digging.

Make way for Megalodon!

Make way for Megalodon! Now boarding in rows OH SHIT to WE’RE FUCKED.

Return from Ruralopolis!

Ruralopolis sure is pretty

Ruralopolis sure is pretty

Well, as I mentioned in the previous post, I have returned from Ruralopolis. I have returned, my friends, only to find Kate had her baby when I wasn’t around to cover it, Jennifer Aniston is probably married, Dennis Farina is dead, and the Daily Dot got hacked by the Syrian Electronic Army. Fuck, that’s the last time I go on vacation! Everything falls to pieces without me.

But for those of you who’ve been following my Flickr stream, you’ll know I haven’t been idle. I’ve been dashing about from Hither, a sprawling metropolis featuring actual hitching posts, to Yawn, the megalopolis which boasts not one! but two! mini golf courses, and taking pictures all along the way and particularly of the food. So I didn’t leave Vancouver behind me completely. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of entertainment, and was not disappointed. One night we could listen to the coyotes while sitting in the hot tub sipping wine, and that was quite enough excitement for me after the year I’ve had.

Imagine, then, my astonishment to come across an amazing musical duo, deep in the heart of the northernmost reaches of the Great Sonora Desert! These guys apparently play sold-out stadium shows all over, in the big urban centres, from the Spallumcheen to Olalla, not neglecting the Rez-taurant in Ruralopolis. Enjoy their soothing sounds and sophisticated syncopations as they lay down some slick lounge grooves.

Back to the Salt Mines

Salt Mines

Ah, it’s a slog

Well, the vacation is officially over. My main accomplishments are: a truly epic sunburn, regaining five of the pounds I’d lost, and learning how to use the Flickr app on my phone. That’s extraordinarily productive for a vacation. Heck, I even wrote two dozen blog posts! Now for my next dazzling accomplishment, I shall try to get paid for same. Stay tuned for breaking updates from my bank account!