The history of McD's

Basic rules for operating a fast food restaurant

Fast Food Facts

Reasons McDonald's became so successful

McDonaldization explained

McDonaldization's Other Precursors

Advantages of McDonaldization

Ways to Cope with McDonaldization

McDonaldization In My Life - Today

Conclusions

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McDonaldization In My Life - Today

This is where I live. No, this is not a prison. I actually look forward to coming back to this building at the end of the day.


Guess which one is my room! Yes, you are right! It is the closed window.


This is the stairwell. We are now inside the building.


The hallway... this is where my friends and I spend our free time!


This is my room. Do not worry - all the rooms look like this!


These are the shower stalls. Nothing special - all very COMMONPLACE.


Sinks...


Toilets... yes, the bathroom.


And when I get hungry I have some raisins (fast fruit).

As I go through my day, there is no variety. I wake up, look at my yellow-painted walls. The blinds are closed, so I try to guess the weather through the amount of light that is still able to break through. Then off to take a shower. Which one do I choose? Oh, it does not matter - they are all the same. Same with the sinks and the toilets (no surprise).

I then go to the dining hall where I get to choose from different types of "fast-food" restaurants. It is nice that there is a variety of things to choose from every day, except that the choices are the same the next day. Then it is off to class, where I choose one of the standard desks to listen to the professor's standard lecture, that he has done every year for the past 20 years.

Then it is back to the dorms, where I sit in front of my computer and check my email. Then study, study, study. Textbook after textbook. Then back to the cafeteria for the standard food, then more study, then sleep in the standard size bed with the standard sized pillow and standard sized sheets - all beige. Then sleep, and repeat it all again. Isn't variety great?

The only thing that relieves me is that I know that this is not the real world. In a few years I will get a job and a real apartment. The building will be a little nicer. The rooms will be a little larger. My study area will be a work cubicle in front of a grey computer with the bright blue light shinning from the monitor. Then into my gas-efficient, moderately-sized car, and back home.

In a few more years, I might move to a nice little house in the suburbs, with a white picket fence and a fireplace, just like everybody else. That sure does make me feel better. Then I would have accomplished my American Dream.