Dunkin’ Donuts

This is our go to Dunkin joint since it’s the closest to us in our neighborhood. We’ve tried the others around the area and this is the best by far. Very friendly staff. Even when they’re overwhelmed, they take it out on each other instead of the customer. Let me tell you, I’ve seen some really picky customers too. If the drink is too sweet, not sweet enough or just not the way the customer wants it, they give you a brand new drink, period. Good customer service, good drinks and the donuts are always good. Keep up the good work Dunkin. They have to, there are 2 others to choose from in the area. Competition is a good thing.

*This post is being sponsored by Starbucks. Starbucks: We’ll rip you off, but won’t let you bone our Baristas.*
Dunkin Donuts, why have you forsaken me?
I came here every morning and after a week, I walked in and I would not have to say a word. The women who worked there (I will now refer to them as «My girls») would have my coffee ready. I just assumed it was because I was the only white guy to ever step foot in there. Whatever the reason was I was taken care of. I was a regular. Did I mention I was white?
Then, I went in a few times and my girls weren’t there. The rats had taken over the ship! Mind you, this is at 7:30 in the morning and I was walking in probably still stoned– I mean tired– from the night before. When I walk in, it was like the Crystal Ball room (a 70s club in NYC). Music blaring, cashiers dancing, and the unthinkable was occurring: the Dunkin Donuts employees were fraternizing with the Baskin Robbins employees. An absolute No-​No in Dunkin Donuts World.
Whatever, just give me my iced coffee and I’m out. I come back the next day and it’s the same atmosphere. This time, the cashier (I think it was Nicki Minaj) was freestyling and takin 10 years for my coffee. My, how the mighty had fallen.
The next few days, my girls came back and order was restored; but then it happened. They lost my business.
To digress, when my girls worked, they had a sex-​slave– er male employee– make my coffee. He knew me; we gave each other the nod a few times. Now back to my tale.
I went in there in a rush and he was the only worker. AFTER MY COFFEE was made, he tells me the credit card machine is down .I had no cash (spent it on a hooker on my way to work). Now, instead of the approving nod, I get the «go fck yourself» shrug. He dumps my coffee and lets me leave. As I left, my heart broke in half because I added it to my dreaded «Never Again» list. I still miss my girls but am too proud to go see them. I can only hope they read this post and respond so maybe we can meet at a neutral Dunkin Donuts and we can relive our magic…