There is perhaps no nobler reason to set foot in a McDonald's franchise, thereby absorbing the chain's telltale greasy French-fry scent in one's hair, clothes and probably skin, than civil disobedience.
On Friday morning, a few dozen protestors crowded a franchise at Central Avenue and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard as part of the Fight for $15 movement's latest action. It was just as the lunch rush was kicking in.
Protestors and befuddled customers gathered around a demonstrator (name withheld) manning a bullhorn.
“Workers are tired of getting starvation wages," he shouted, as someone else was beating a drum. "Can I get a boo for starvation wages?”
"Boooo," echoed the crowd, which was about as diverse in age and ethnic background as one can get in these parts.
“Workers are tired, are sick, are sick and tired of being told that their lives do not matter," he said. "Does your life matter?”
"Yeahhhhh," replied the crowd.
The aim was to deliver a petition to franchise management calling for a minimum wage hike to the tune of $15 an hour.
The petition, a large, laminated board covered with Sharpie signatures, was briefly delivered to the franchise before management handed it over to police, who in turn handed it back to the activists.
A female employee, perhaps a manager, repeatedly asked the demonstrators to leave. Authorities were called, and within minutes a handful of police squad cars came zooming into the franchise's parking lot. Within moments, the demonstrators filed back out onto the sidewalk abutting the franchise and resumed their protest.
Most present work or have worked at a fast food franchise not unlike the one at which they were demonstrating.
“We need a living wage of $15," said Dasman Gunter, who worked at a Burger King in St. Petersburg. "That's not even enough, but it's a start. Because what is $8.05? Even living on your own, without any kids or anything, that's still tough. You're barely making ends meet.”
Gunter is 19 and has aspired to be a S.W.A.T. officer since he was five, he said. Tough work, but dealing with lines out the door during rushes and constant cuts and burns for probably a fraction of the pay leaves more to be desired, he said.
“Excuse my language, but it's complete hell on earth," he said. "Besides that, getting talked to like we're kids, and we can't say anything back or we get written up. We get burned every day, we get cut every day.”
Demonstrating in solidarity with the protestors was Mable Smith, a retired nursery worker from Tampa. She said when she worked in fast food in the '60s, one could survive on the minimum wage.
“To see the young people doing what they're doing, I want to stand with them," she said. “Everything else is going up. Why not give them a raise so they can enjoy their lives? That's why they work, to have what they want.”
This article appears in Jun 4-10, 2015.