Dear Mr. President Obama,
Dude, Mr. President, why am I still in charge of the French fries at McDonald’s? It’s been, like, 4 years and all since you took office and my life hasn’t gotten any better at all.
I turned 18 just before you were first elected, and your winning in 2008 was the best birthday gift I ever had. I almost even voted for you. I worked at McDonald’s at the time. I was in charge of their French fries. I believed your speeches and the hype, the Hope and the Change, and knew my life would get so much better once you were elected.
But it’s been 4 years, Mr. Obama, and I am still in charge of the same French fry department at my town's McDonald’s. I haven’t been made a senior manager, or owner, or been able to buy that cool new BMW I always wanted, or that yacht I promised my high school girlfriend from 2008 (and the 6-week-old fetus she was carrying…that wasn’t mine). Yep, Mr. Obama, I still live with my parents, still working the same shitty job in the same shitty place.
On the night you were elected my buddies and me threw a party. It lasted 8 days. I missed 6 days at work. And when I did show back up to work I was still “feeling it” from partyin (if ya know what i'm saying ;) But what did I care? You were president, and everything was going to be okay.
When you got that Nobel Peace Prize the next year I got so excited I threw another party. I made it to work that time, but was late, and my boss told to leave McDonald’s because I allegedly “reeked of illegal substances” (guy thought he was my dad and shit).
Then that asshole on that cable show called you a racist, and those weird bearded people with flags with snakes on them began protesting everywhere, calling you a tyrant and all Socialismal. They made me so mad that I smoked up all day, including at work. I just couldn’t take it. But at least my boss was impressed at my being at work, and on time (but that was only because I was too upset to sleep, so I went in). My boss even asked if I'd like to be a manager, but that’d mean I’d have to wake up at like 5:00 AM three days a week and shit, and that's just retarded, ya know?
Then you signed that health care thing and we’re all suppose to not get sick anymore, and I took an unexpected, but well deserved, leave from work to go to the beach with my buds. That’s how excited I was about you, Mr. President! I was suspended from work that time. My boss was pissed, but the joke was on him since we’d all have free health care now —as if, like, he didn't believe it and shit.
But seriously, man, shit was supposed to get better after you were elected. But here I am, still pickin up French fries off the floor to give to customers, getting spattered with all your trans-fat-restricted grease and putting up with my boss and takin care of my 4th kid (who I really think is Tony’s). This ain’t how shit was suppose to work out, man! This wasn’t the way you said things were supposed to be under you. Mr. President, what are you gonna do? You say you’ve done some stuff and all that, but really, I’m not seein’ it, dude.