How I Get By: A Week in the Life of a McDonald’s Cashier

Cierra Brown is trying to do all she can on her own, but it rarely feels like she’s doing enough.

Cierra Brown estimates her commute to work would only take about 25 minutes if she had a car. That’s part of the reason she returned to McDonald’s in January: Her car had broken down and she needed money. But at McDonald’s, Brown only earns $9.50 per hour as a cashier, which barely helps cover rent and is far from enough to solve her vehicular woes. Without a car, one of Brown’s main headaches is getting to work. Her typical bus commute to McDonald’s takes as long as two hours each way.

By the time she starts work, she’s already tired. When she gets home, she’s exhausted.

At 29, Brown works approximately 40 hours a week, splitting her time between a McDonald’s in Durham, North Carolina, and a food-service gig a local hospital. “It’s still not enough,” she said. Both jobs are part-time, and she doesn’t receive health insurance through either employer. She can’t afford insurance on her own, either. That’s a problem since Brown is diabetic, and she has to pay for her medical expenses out of pocket. She’s trying to do all she can on her own—she receives no food stamps or other assistance, she notes—but it rarely feels like she’s doing enough.

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Returning to McDonald’s wasn’t an easy decision. The first time Brown left McDonald’s in 2015, it was because she hadn’t received the raise and benefits package she had been promised when she was promoted to assistant certified swing manager, she said. She thought she was going to get a bump to $11, some paid time off and health insurance.

Coming back has been difficult at times, which is part of the reason she joined “Fight for $15 and a Union” a political movement that advocates for a $15 minimum wage. The cause gives her some small semblance of hope.

Today was cold. My 30-minute walk to the bus stop felt farther than usual, even though I walk this same route every day. I caught the 1:20 p.m. bus, then switched buses, and got to work a few minutes before my 3:30 p.m. shift at the hospital.

For the next four hours, I stand in one spot on a concrete floor working the tray line. It’s like a constant assembly line, putting food on trays for thousands of patients. I do milk, bread, butter, Ensure. Milk, bread, butter, Ensure. A tray goes by every few seconds. Milk, bread, butter, Ensure. If I'm slow, it backs up the line and it takes longer to finish. Standing in one place so long makes my feet and my legs hurt. I know when I get up tomorrow, I will wince when my feet touch the floor.

After work, I got a ride to the Fight for $15 and a Union office, just in time to catch the last 20 minutes of our membership meeting. I got up and spoke about the public hearing we’re planning for next month—a hearing for workers like me to testify about the conditions we’re facing in Durham, N.C.

I joined the Fight for $15 and a Union because I’ve worked in the fast food industry for 14 years—about half my life—and all these jobs have a few things in common. They all paid poverty wages. None of these jobs have given me the opportunity to come together with my coworkers in a union, or receive any healthcare benefits. And the only way we'll create change in these jobs is workers coming together and demanding it.

The bus was late today, and it reminds me to get back to saving for a car. I used to have one, but I couldn’t keep up with my car note or insurance with my McDonald’s paycheck. I’ve been trying to save towards a car, but every time I save money, I have to use it. It feels like I'm not getting anywhere. I figure I need at least a $1,000 down payment. I had about $300 saved, but I had to use it to get groceries, pay my phone bill, and get back, and forth to work. So I’m back at zero.

I’m thinking about this while I deliver meal trays to patients. I pick up trays from the basement level where we pack them, and take them to different floors. I try to give every patient a little sunshine when I drop off their food, anything I can do to make their day better. But I don’t have much time because there are hundreds to deliver and I have to be quick.

Working at McDonald’s today—running the cash register, cleaning up the dining room, helping keep the kitchen running. I only get paid for one job, but they ask me to do a little of everything.

I meant to pack a lunch and bring it with me, but I forgot. I try not to eat McDonald’s food. I'm diabetic—I have to eat at regular times so I can take my medicine and manage my diabetes. Neither of my jobs offer health insurance, so I have to manage my health on my own.

It’s 8 p.m. and my scheduled shift is over, but they asked me to stay later—probably till 10:30 or 11 p.m. I would like to tell them no, go home, eat dinner, take my medicine and go to sleep. But I can’t do that. I know from experience that if McDonald’s asks you to stay late, you better do it. If I say no to extra hours, it’s likely that my next week’s hours will get cut or I’ll get taken off the schedule for a while.

The bus stops running at 10 p.m. on Sunday, but McDonald's asked me to stay until close at 1 a.m. They asked me to stay because they need my help. I know it’s going to be rough to find a way home, but I need the money so I said yes.

Again, staying late is not mandatory but I know I might get punished for saying no, so it's risky to not accept. And getting less hours at work would mean that something is going to have to go lacking—like a bill that will have to go unpaid. When you make $9.50/hour, you don’t have any wiggle room.

I get out at midnight and call three people for a ride, because there is no way for me to walk home. The first three people don’t answer. I can’t blame them, it’s late. In the end, Keanon, another Fight for $15 and a Union member, comes to get me. I can count on other workers because they know what I’m going through. In the Fight for $15, we have each others’ backs.

Mondays are paydays at McDonald's. Before I leave for my hospital job, I get my McDonald’s paycheck. It's $215, for 2 weeks of work. I know I will be broke by Wednesday.

First things first, I set aside $5 to pay back gas money for a friend who drove me to work last week. I mentally put a little bit of this check in the “saving for a car” fund. I set aside a chunk of this check for rent. I live with my boyfriend John and his parents. John and I help around the house and we pay rent every month. A couple years ago I had my own apartment, but the cost of rent has gone up so much in Durham, and my paychecks are about the same. I know a lot of other friends and workers who are living with family or even in their cars. So it’s not just me who can’t afford to be independent.

Then I go straight to the Dollar Tree and get the necessities: soap, toothbrush, canned food, pads, tampons, hand soap, and a few other things. It takes me a little while to decide whether I want to get my snack that I really like—these crunchy popcorn chips—or do I get soap. I decide I need to wash myself more than I need those chips!

My $215 check is lower than I expected. I thought my hours were going to equal up to a little bit more, but my calculations were wrong. I feel like I’m not progressing—I'm not able to do anything beyond my basic needs. And I know I’m not the only one struggling with these poverty wages—this is why we fight!

The hospital tray line was moving fast today. There's another worker who is pregnant and approaching her due date. I kept my eye on her as she worked a few spots down from me. She was picking up metal pallets that we use to keep the food warm, and bending down to pick up plastic utensils from the bottom shelf. I jumped in and helped her as often as I could, getting things from the low shelves so she didn’t have to keep bending. I tried to help her as much as I could.

She says she plans to work for as long as possible, trying to provide for her baby. As part time employees, we don’t get health insurance or paid sick days. She’s excited to become a mom, and I’m happy for her. We're good coworkers—work friends, you could say.

I’m on the bus to my hospital job when I get a call from McDonald’s—they want me to come in today. So after I finish my shift at the hospital, I figure out the bus schedule to get from job A to job B. By the time I get home tonight, I will have spent almost 5 hours on the bus.

McDonald’s is a little short-staffed tonight, so I’m busy. I take orders at the cash register and keep a smile on my face no matter what comes at me. I’m good at being friendly even when I’m tired, because I actually like our customers. Most of the people who eat at McDonald’s are working at jobs that pay less than $15/hour. And here in North Carolina, it’s a safe bet that they don’t have union protection at work. So when I’m fighting for $15 and union rights for all workers, I’m doing it for them too. Since I became a leader in the Fight for $15 and a Union, whenever I meet a worker I see someone who could join our fight.

When I finally get home most of the house is asleep, but John is waiting up for me. We cook dinner—chicken and a bag of frozen mixed veggies with a little soy sauce. We eat together and talk about our days. We talk about bills and how we're going to cover the next week. He makes me laugh and we watch TV until I fall asleep on the couch.

I’m preparing meal trays for patients at the hospital and the day is speeding by because I’m excited for what comes next. Later today I’m going to a Fight for $15 and a Union leadership retreat.

I get to the retreat a little late because I couldn’t take off work. Other worker-leaders are sitting in a circle talking about lessons from past social movements—the Civil Rights movement, Dr. King’s Poor People’s Campaign. They widen the circle for me and I jump into the discussion. This fight for workers’ dignity is not new—it’s something that’s been going on for decades. It feels good to be talking about big ideas after packing hospital meals for hours.

I share about my daily struggle—working since age 14, often having to rely on food stamps while working full time for McDonald’s, no health insurance, always worried about making ends meet. There’s no way for me to face these realities without the Fight for $15 and a Union—it’s helped me find my voice.

In one of the sessions we talk about hope. This movement gives me hope, but we still have a lot to do—we haven’t won a $15 minimum wage here in the South yet, and we need to make McDonald’s hear our demand for a seat at the table. When I talk to other workers I tell them: We need more chances to come together in unions because we need each other.

Our workshops run late into the night because we want to keep talking and planning. Everything that I learned here today, I won’t forget. But I have to get some sleep—tomorrow is another work day.

In the mid nineties, federal welfare programs began requiring some work, I noticed the change to adults working in MCDonalds, etc. This happened when Clinton signed welfare reform when he was trying to get re-elected.

So what does the boyfriend do? Why can’t he give her a car? And why are they staying at his parents if they charge at least one 40-hour-a-week worker’s paycheck just for the privilege?

We know. If she we’re an immigrant she’d find a way to work 60 hours a week for a few months to save up some cash. She and her boyfrienc could probably find another similarly strapped couple to share a cheap apartment closer to her work if such issues are really widespread. And how cold can it be walking to the bus in NC? I am walking to trains up here in CT and NY in December.

All that said, yes, it is the uniparty’s massive influx of cheap immigrant labor expressly to push down the wages of low skill workers such as she clearly is. $15/hr in NC will just up the automation in McDonald’s and hospital kitchens—if thwre is a shortage of illegals.

The question is who should determine how much an employee is worth: her employer or the nanny state.

Guess which one I choose.

I remember those times. In 93 my firm went from 250 engineers to 40 in about two months. All firms dried up. I ended up being a short order cook at 3 different restaurants. Mon thru Fri 8am to 6pm at one, then 7pm to 2am at another. On Sat and Sun cooked 11am thru 8pm at the third restaurant. I did this for 1year 4months straight. Not one day off. Sometimes you have no choice. I’m sure there are many on FR with similar stories. “Life’s a bitch. Then you die. “:-D

It’s hard finding work as a senior. I’ve been looking for a while but spent a whole month trying for a great job that I jumped through hoops to get only to lose out in the end (won’t do that again). I have an interview for restaurant dishwasher next week and I’m hoping I get it. I’m applying to a lot of jobs, but only a few even give a call back. I’ve worked in HR, so I know this is an age issue even though they use “other” reasons.

Life is hard when you are 29 and your skill set is that of a 16 year-old.

She votes. I am for increasing the min wage to $15. Get this ridiculous issue off the table and stop looking like jerks to the lower echelon voter.

She likely voted for Obama. Who through ObamaCare is directly responsible for her inability to get a fulltime job. You want a $15 minimum wage? I guess you also want to pay $11.50 or more for Big Mac value meal.

And keep in mind that she will lose her Mickey D job if do gooders like you get your wish. She wil be replaced by a kiosk.

Sounds like my experience at McDonald’s, around 1972. The head manager was 21, and one of the assistant managers was 23. I was a swing manager at 17, and I don’t think any of the cooks or cashiers was over 21. It was fun while it lasted, and then I moved on.

Good Damn Question.

Lets See. That $349.00 13 inch Color TV?

You’d have to shell out $2,586.00 for it today.

Yup. If you take on responsibilities you’re honor bound to take them serious.

I crawled in attacks dragging romex for an electrician friend. Painted houses for another friend, and went to a pharmaceutical plant 1000 miles away to do calibration and validation of electronic equipment in a new section of a plant (my old job but working for a validation contractor )

Yup. Life can be a b!tch

Are you a leftist hack writer, forced to advance the agenda of misery against real news of record low unemployment, real wage increases, and the Trump boom?

Lazy charges of the endless isms getting no traction? No mass shooting or foreign war? Trot out the Single Working Mom story!

As long as there’s one whiny 30-year-old out there who’s made so many bad decisions that they’re still tossing fries, “capitalism has failed.”(tm)

fast food jobs are permenent jobs. Perhaps in 1965 they werent but they are now

Grillmen, managers and supervisors and tech people as well as franchise office people all have permenent jobs. So do the cleaning help.

There is a whole slice of life that are hardworking, clean, respectable people who live in trailerparks, and apartments and work hard and do their best. And Mickyds is their best. I am glad there are fast food places to employ these folks. They are like family for these folks.

Army doc. I’m sure you are as sincere as I am. It all should be done locally. I often thought that all salaries can be taxed the same and at the end of the year. Congress can get together and decide what the lowest earners among us should get. Do it yearly and prove through paycheck stubs that 40 hours were worked. Fraud can be ‘discouraged’ by removing employers from any bonus pay for their workers.

Yeah, that's the same reaction I saw from the "good idea fairies" in the Army. They proposed a "we" and when it was tasked as a "you", the enthusiasm quickly evaporated. My offer still stands.

BTW, the "reply" button is useful for replying to posts

I don’t go to McDs very often, but recently stopped at one in Kansas while on a trip, just to get some coffee. It was the nicest one I’ve ever been to, and I’d say half the people working there were 50 to 60+ years old.

The worst though was under Jimmy Carter. I will never forget how that fool tried to destroy America. The snowflakes of today don’t realize how good they have it. God Bless Trump.

You win the cigar!!!
In NY she would still qualify for Medicaid which is free, cadillac health insurance.

I currently work 2 full time jobs and manage a rental property. When preggers for my first kid I biked 14 miles one way to a sweatshop industrial laundry job. I was going through a divorce and had no clue about food stamps, welfare, etc. Had no car until in my mid twenties and then it was a hoopty (married at 18)

There were times I lived in my car with my two kids. Pretty sure the “rent” at her boyfriend’s mom’s house is insignificant.

Sorry but I made it out of poverty through sheer determination and hard work.

Amen. When I was 29, I had my Masters degree (in Creative Writing, no less...) and was working in corporate communications for Fidelity Investments. I was making mid thirties (this was, sadly, over 20 years ago) and shared an apartment with a friend. I really had, and still have, no sympathy for someone who just wanders through life with no plan and no marketable skills. I don’t eat fast food, and I certainly won’t eat it if the $15/min wage is ever passed. It’s not my job to subsidize bad behavior.

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