Glazed & Confused

People, people, people.

You need to get OUT of my WAY when I’m going for my morning coffee at Dunkin Donuts. What is the deal, here? What used to be a casual two minute stop for one fricking cup of coffee (Medium Hazelnut, please, regular) is now an interminable odyssey of epic proportions.

I don’t blame the stores per se….well, not much, anyway. Sure, they should ALL institute the express ‘coffee-only’ line that some stores have for those, like me, who just want to fill-er-up and be on their way. I guess that they’re also responsible for introducing their new line of Dunka-Frappa-Mocha-Latta-Chinos and allowing them to be accessible to the public during the morning rush hour.

Don’t get me wrong, I like most of those concoctions, and I understand DD’s need to compete with Uber-beanery Starbucks, but these drinks need to be created and enjoyed in an environment that is anathema to those jonesing for a simple jolt of morning java. You know the trappings I’m talking about: smooth, ambient Jazz, angsty ‘coffee-nista’ employees, T.S. Elliot photos on the walls…that sort of thing. The scene where the bored goth employee stares blankly into your face as she rests her head on her shoulder and leans into the 'frothing-device' lever for what seems like hours while the entire store is treated to the splash and sonance of the reenactment of a house cat dealing with an especially reluctant hairball has no place at all in my morning commute.

But in general, my blame is more directed at the consumer than the coffee-house. It’s my fellow coffee-drinker that causes most of the delay. Heck, I’ll give Dunkin Donuts due credit: Most of their employees can retain your order if you give it to them two, perhaps three items at a time, instead of needing to be marched back and forth one item at a time as most of my coffee consumer compatriots seem to desire them to do. I’d blame this on sadism, if not for the fact that it’s obvious that these folks are often just suddenly deciding what they want to order right then and there.

I’m sorry, what were these folks doing with their two or so hours in line while the froth-machine was regurgitating its second hairball for the customer that mistakenly ordered a Dunka-Frappa-Latta-Mocha-Chino instead of the Frappa-Dunka-Mocha-Chino-Latte that they really meant to get? It’s not like Dunkin Donuts keeps their product concealed until you reach the front of the line, when they flip open a mysterious briefcase for a furtive glance at the goods. ‘Whoa! You mean there are donuts here???’ There’s a whole frickin vertical wall of fat displayed for you, visible from the parking lot! Can you take a moment or two to organize your thoughts before crunch time?

No, of course not. Instead we get these Annie Oakley showman-sharpshooter types like the one immediately in front of me today. After she overcomes the fear evident in her eyes as she realizes it is now her turn on the line, she draws her pointer up from her side, thumb cocked, and starts firing haphazardly at the 6 x 9 pastry grid. 'Black Raspberry!' (Grid Coordinate – E5) 'Uhhh…Boston Crème!' (A2) 'Hmmmm…what’s that?' (D8! You sunk my Cruller!) Meanwhile the poor donut runner (register certification pending) ricochets back and forth from bin to bin like the shooting gallery duck he has become.

Good god woman! Are you new to this country? We need re-education, here! Show the flickering filmstrip of Fred McMurray that we all saw back in grade school, where he patiently and sing-songedly goes over the Taxonomy of DD denizens:

“Now the Bagel Family resides up top, kids, with Donuts down below and Muffins to the right. See how within each Family, the Genus groups together?”

Sings:

“Look at Family Donuts, this is what I mean!
Jellies here!
Glazed there!
Powdered In Between!”

Order by Genus at least, Annie! Save precious seconds and steps!

I won’t even get started on those ordering ‘breakfast sandwiches.’ Those poor folks will have to deal with the consequences of that for the rest of their lives.