My Last Day

Today’s the day. It’s finally here. I’ve thought about this moment so many times that whatever happens, I know it won’t live up to the fantasy I’ve created. I’ve decided that instead of doing all the usual unnecessary shit that I do throughout my work day, I’m going to take stock and think about what I’ll miss about this place, and what I look forward to never doing again.

What I’ll Miss:

1. Free Coffee.

2. The few nice Customers.

3. Getting out at 7 on Sunday’s.

4. Fucking with rude people.

5. Locking the doors on people after we close.

6. Listening to music on the store speakers.

7. Trying new flavor combos in my coffee.

8. Hashbrowns.

9. Customers leaving nice reviews on Yelp.

10. Customers leaving ridiculous reviews on Yelp.

11. Giving stressed-out people free coffee, because we’ve all been there.

12. Listening to Raj yell at people for unreasonable things, like using the bathroom he just cleaned.

13. Listening to Raj act super nice when his boss is around.

14. Scaring new Dunks employees with customer horror stories.

15. Listening to full albums at work.

16. Introducing customers to music.

What I Won’t Miss Even A Little:

1. That On-The-Go ringtone that never shuts up.

2. Getting yelled at by entitled morons who think this is an upscale restaurant.

3. People throwing money at me like I’m a bad stripper.

4. Customers complaining because the prices aren’t the same as they were in 1976.

5. Coming home covered in greasy fat and coffee stains.

6. Customers assuming I speak perfect Spanish because I work at Dunks.

7. People placing $50+ orders, and not tipping after.

8. Customers taking money out of my tip jar to avoid breaking a bill.

9. People snapping their fingers while I make their food because they think it’ll speed things up.

10. Blatant heroin users coughing on their money and handing it to me.

11. Drunk people asking if I can add liquor to their drinks.

12. Customers making up flavors and expecting me to know what they are.

13. Parents who bring their crying kid in, and leave them at the counter.

14. Getting 4am calls from the District Manager, asking where the TV remote is.

15. Getting calls at 4:15am from said manager after she finds the remote.

16. Getting called in at 8:30am for a 12pm shift.

17. Having to work 3am-8pm because someone didn’t show up.

18. Coffee “connoisseurs” who can apparently tell the difference between 17 creams and 18 creams in their small iced coffee.

19. People who want their coffee “extra extra light”, then complain that their coffee is too light.

20. Having customers talk on their phone at the counter when they should be ordering.

21. Getting called racist because I ask someone to repeat themselves after they order in another language.

22. Getting cold brew thrown at me because “It’s not cold enough!”

23. Customers getting angry that we don’t have Pumpkin Spice in July.

24. Customers getting offended when I ask if they want their coffee iced or hot.

25. Old people telling me that “Hey Yeah” is The Devil’s Music™️.

26. People who try and order food 45 minutes after the ovens are off.

27. Customers who order small coffees in extra-large cups because they think they’re beating the system.

28. Getting yelled at because I didn’t finish the work that someone else was supposed to do.

29. Getting asked 6 times in a row if the decaf coffee they ordered is actually decaf.

30. Customers who don’t understand what “regular” means, and get mad when they order a regular and it’s not what they wanted.

31. Being told I got a raise, and making the same amount of money every week.

32. Having to do my boss’s paperwork because she wants to go home early.

33. Customers paying for big orders with change.

34. When I greet customers at the counter, and they look at me like I’m offending them.

35. Confused customers who try and get me to pump their gas because they don’t understand how 2 stores can share a building.

36. Customers who get mad that their coffee is on the counter, and not wherever they want to wait for it.

37. Parents who point at me and tell their kids “This is what happens when you don’t go to college!”

38. Overly-complicated sandwich orders that make no sense

39. Having to fix at least one piece of equipment every shift, none of which is ever replaced.

40. Always being out of something that multiple customers want

41. Getting yelled at because we’re out of something a customer wants.

42. Being treated like I’m less than a person because I work at Dunks.

43. Having to pee outside like an animal because the bathroom doesn’t work.

Goodbye, and good riddance

On Anger

It’s been a shitty day. It shouldn’tve been, but it was. I’ve always been intrigued by anger, why is it such a powerful emotion?

Anger is the emotion I probably feel the most, which is probably why I’m unhappy, but it’s also a key component in my accomplishments. Anger is the only truly renewable resource: you will never stop getting angry, you just have to channel that into something productive, or you’ll end up sticking the barrel of a shotgun in your mouth and clocking out. I’ve done so many things because people told me I couldn’t. My 6th grade English teacher told me I’d never make it to high school, I did. My junior science teacher told me I’d never get into college, I did. My first college advisor told me I should drop out, I did, but because I ran out of money, not because I flunked out. I think getting angry fuels you more than any drug could even dream of.

I think our rage comes from a biological place, prehistoric humans wouldn’t be able to bash a sabre tooth tiger’s head in without that warm, fuzzy feeling that you get right before you absolutely lose your shit. Think about how many things productive rage has accomplished; punk rock, Prince changing his name to something no one can pronounce, every political uprising, that monk who set himself on fire to protest the Vietnam War, all of it done because “Fuck you, that’s why.”

Is there anything better than meeting someone who hates the same things you do? Anger brings us together. Fuck Tinder, bring me an app where I can match with other people who hate people who put their phone on speakerphone in public. If we bonded over what we hate rather than hiding it, we’d be a more productive society. We need to teach people that being an asshole has consequences, and in the era of social media, public shaming is the best weapon we have. For every douche in McDonald’s, we have thousands of YouTube comments making fun of that person, and that’s how it should be. Every time I see someone absolutely lose it, I learn something. If the anger is justified, I learn that it’s okay to feel that way, and that I’m not a psycho for feeling the same way. If it’s not justified, I learn how to make the other person feel like shit so that if I’m ever in the same situation, I can respond accordingly.

I know this makes me sound like an asshole, and I definitely am sometimes, but it’s also good to learn how to use that assholishness to achieve a goal. Don’t bottle all that rage up, use it to shove your success down the throats of everyone who has ever doubted you.

People Are Weird

What the hell is with some people? I’ve been asked so many stupid questions that should’ve died inside the person’s head long before they vomited them out. Working food service has opened my eyes to an unpleasant truth: these people have jobs that effect things.

Whenever I see roadwork going on for months, I think about the construction worker who came in, asking if we could make him a pizza, operating heavy machinery. Now, I’m like 75% sure that these people are just momentarily frazzled, but there are some cases that are too blatent to ignore.

Today, a woman came in, looked at our menu for about 3 minutes, then asked what our soup of the day was. When I had to inform her that Dunkin Donuts does not make soup, she seemed shocked. Now, this wasn’t an old woman, or a foreign woman, just a regular ol’ lady wearing a Gucci jacket, with the matching bag.

This isn’t an isolated incident; so many people fail to use basic reading comprehension, critical thinking skills, and most important of all, their eyes. For example, I was locking the store up to leave, way past closing time, and a guy comes up and orders a coffee. Now, not only are the lights and sign off, there aren’t any other people in the store, there isn’t any coffee left, and I’m literally at the door about to leave. Sounds like a perfect time to order coffee, right?

Usually, I just ignore the urge to laugh, and provide the same excellent customer service that I always do, but today is different. Am I just an asshole, or have people slowly gotten dumber? I’m sure that stagnant education funding has had some effect on the average intelligence levels of our country, but if we keep going down this path, Idiocracy will turn into a documentary, which is something that terrifies me.

10 Things We Should Leave Behind in 2020

1) Begging for new music on Twitter

This is something I’m seeing more and more, and I think it’s so entitled and stupid to go to artist’s Twitter pages, and demand they drop new music whenever they want it. What happened to patience? What makes a person think that just because they’re a fan, they get to decide when an artist puts something out? Even when they do release new music, artist’s are inundated with people asking for even more. How greedy can you be?

2) Fake clickbait Headlines

Ok, I totally get why these are used, but c’mon, be a little creative with them. I know my titles aren’t the best sometimes, but if I ever have a post called “10 Celebrity Fails, You Won’t BELIEVE Number 6!!”, fucking shoot me. These all use the same stupid formula, and the only people it works on are the type of people who care what celebrities are doing on vacation.

3) TMZ Comments

If you haven’t heard of TMZ, you’re lucky, it’s a terrible, toxic wasteland of humanity. The comments section is even worse. I’ve never seen so many racist comments in one place, and I go on Reddit every day. If you don’t believe me, just search “Obama TMZ” and see the bottom-barrel of society.

4) Opinion News Shows

Let’s make the news “news” again. No more Tucker Carlson, no more Rachel Maddow, no more Fox and Friends. I want people with journalistic integrity on the news again, not some mouthpiece that spews their opinion as fact. Opinion news has only grown since Trump was elected, and I don’t see it going away as long as he’s around. It’s just too easy to get viewers by parroting their opinions back to people who feel strongly about things they know nothing about.

5) Meme Rap

Ok, Lil Nas X can stay, but that’s because I’m fascinated by his marketing strategy. The rest of them have to go though, Lil Pump doesn’t contribute anything new to music, Lil Windex is only funny for about 5 minutes before he gets on my nerves, and Rich Brian has pivoted to a more serious style, which is good because he actually makes decent music sometimes.

6) YouTube Pranks

How the fuck are these still around? What type of legal team does someone like Vitaly have? How can he just go around fucking with people and not get sued? Maybe he’s staging all these pranks, but I don’t think he can afford to pay actors enough to get punched in the face on YouTube. Also, those channels where they go into “the hood” and start messing with alleged gang members who usually carry firearms. One of these such channels actually got shot by pretending to be a zombie, so I’m hoping we see less of them.

7) Donald Trump

My feelings about Donald Trump can be summed up by the YG song titled “Fuck Donald Trump”

8) Outrage Trolls

These are the people who comment edgy shit to piss people off. These people live off of the negative attention, and it’s been going on long enough that people should understand that by now. Eventually, these people grow up or give up, so it’s just a matter of ignoring them and waiting it out.

9) Clout Chasers

Clout is a word that I’d never heard of until 2019, so it’s only fair we leave it there. Clout is a stupid new word for popularity, and people usually gain clout by doing stupid things and filming them, hoping they’ll go viral and become influencers. One such person threw a chair off a 10th story balcony, sending it crashing into the street. Aside from how stupid it is to film yourself committing a crime, it’s even stupider to think that this will be your big break in life. Get a real job, asshole.

10) Social Media

This one isn’t going away anytime soon, so I’ll have to just suck it up. Social media is way too important for business to get rid of, so until we find another way to reach large amounts of people for free, social media isn’t going away. It’s a shame, really, how quickly it’s effected us. We care so much about what other people are doing, that we forget that most of it is bullshit that’s made strictly to make you feel inferior.

The Great Molasses Disaster

In this installment of weird historical events, I’ll touch on The Great Molasses Disaster, one of my favorite wacky accidents, that devastated the North End of Boston. On January 15th, 1919, a storage container holding 2.3 million gallons of molasses burst, flooding the streets at 35mph and killing 21 people.

Now, let’s unpack this a little. First of all, let’s picture what 2.3 million gallons of anything coming at you like a soccer mom in a carpool lane. Not great. Now picture molasses: it’s gross, it’s sticky, it’s heavy, and the more you try and fight it, the quicker it’ll take you under, like some sweet-smelling version of quicksand. Now imagine you’re on your way home from one of the many amazing restaurants in the North End when you hear something that sounds like a freight train roaring down the street, enveloping you in some sticky bullshit that slowly drowns you.

Why did this happen? Simple physics is to blame. New England weather is wild, we can go from 60 degrees and sunny, to -5 and snowy, in the same day. That’s what happened ln January 15th. The molasses was previously warmed to make it easier to transport, but when the newly-delivered molasses met the previously-delivered cold molasses, the difference in heat caused the molasses to expand and puncture the container. Thankfully, storage regulations changed, and now there aren’t any more industrial accidents*.

After all the damage was done, and the flood of molasses was cleaned up, over $9.18 million dollars (adjusted for inflation) in damage was done. Locals say that on a hot day, you can still smell the molasses. I’ve been to the North End in the summer, and I don’t buy it, unless molasses smells like the combination of great Italian food, garbage, and stale beer.

Dumbasses at Dunkin: Part Two

In today’s issue of Dumbasses at Dunkin, I’d like to share with you one of the interesting customers who makes my day a little less shitty, by being a piece of shit themselves.

First thing’s first, I should give a little context. Our bathroom’s been acting up lately, and since it’s the only one in the store, we’ve had some unhappy customers complain. Usually, they understand that the absence of a bathroom is not a big deal for the 5 minutes they spend in out store. Not this man.

This gentleman comes into the store, and immediately demands a bathroom. When I informed him of the bathroom situation, he became quite enraged, insisting that it is illegal to keep him from the out-of-order bathroom, ( spoiler alert: it’s not) and insisted I provide him access. Now, usually people understand that our bathroom is broken because they know how terribly the general public treats bathrooms they don’t have to clean, but this man was different.

After 5 minutes of trying to communicate to the gentleman that the only bathroom in the store was out of order, he exploded. He proceeded to go on a racially-charged rant about how the owner of the gas station was discriminating against him because he was Pakastani, which has probably happened before, so I tried to stay composed. After another round of arguement, the man told me that he would be calling the State House, and that we’d be shut down. Lovely.

He called them up, and I could slowly see his face fall as they presumably told him not only was this the wrong place to call, but that he didn’t have a case. As he hung up the phone, he turned to me and called me “Another one of those racist Brazilians” which is a fucking ridiculous sentance, since I’m about as white as you can be, and I don’t speak Portuguese. As Mr. Grumpypants left, he shouted that he would “Shut this place down, and sue the shit out of you! Just you wait!” Well, tick tock, I don’t have all day.

4 Types of Customers Nobody Likes

I get a wide variety of customers at work, most of them are decent enough people, or harmless. There are always outliers though, people like…

4. The Barely-Awake Stoner

Look, there’s nothing wrong with hitting the ol’ electric lettuce, but c’mon people, get it together before you venture out in public. Sometimes these customers are awesome, they’re usually open to suggestions, they’re funny most of the time, and you might get a big tip if you joke about how baked they look. You can tell you’re in for a bad time when you can smell the reefer before you see the customer, this usually means you’re in for 5 minutes of silence while they figure out where they are, and what they might want to eat. Further signs someone might be catastrophically cooked are when they have trouble relaying their order to you, or if they get distracted in the middle of their sentence and stop talking so they can think. Please smoke responsibly people.

3. The Soccer Mom

I don’t know how common these are everywhere else, but in my pasty-white slice of suburbia they run rampant. This sub-genre of white person is identified by their superior attitude, their cropped haircut, and their complete inability to control their children, who usually have ridiculous names like Braedyn or Jaedon. These woman are about 2 cups of coffee and a Xanax away from total meltdown, so they don’t have time for things like manners or complete sentences. Soccer Moms usually hate the taste of coffee, but rely on the caffeine, so they order drinks that are 95% sugary garbage and 5% coffee, and they expect you to know how much of each of the 7 ingredients to put in without telling you. Jesus help you if it’s even a little off, they’ll make you redo it 4 or 5 times until they think it’s right, even if you make it the same way each time. God forbid, they bring their kids in, forcing you to deal with whatever future asshole they’ve raised to talk down to retail workers. These people have never worked a service job on their lives, so they don’t understand that what they’re doing is wrong.

2. The Conspiracy Nut

There are different stages of conspiracy nuts: the first layer is my favorite, they just vomit out whatever clickbait headline they just skimmed so you think they know what they’re talking about. The layer below that is where I start to get annoyed. These people are usually a couple crayons short of a box, and lack the awareness to realize that I’m not interested in listening to them talk about how Obama was a lizard person, or how the government is secretly giving us Lyme Disease to keep us from getting insurance. Every time one of these Alex Jones- level nuts come by, I pray for someone else to come along so I have an excuse to stop listening to them.

1. The Asshole

These are way too common. I don’t know what these people are like outside of the store, but it seems like the second they get into the store they evolve into some sort of enraged nuclear bomb. For the most part, these people are miserable people who get shat on in their own lives so much that they feel the need to make someone else’s day miserable. I deal with this type of customer every day, and I’ve noticed there are more of them than ever, which provides great material, but I’m getting tired of old people yelling at me because I can’t read their minds. Today, I got yelledat because apparently I didn’t get that “Black Coffee” means small iced with extra cream and sugar. I guess I’ve gotta work on that. I’ve found that laughing at these assholes works like a charm, as does being overly nice to them. Both approaches fry their circuits and leave then speechless, which is alway nice after 5 continuous mintues of verbal abuse.

Boston Bungle: Why I Hate Leaving My House

For my friend’s birthday, we decided to do something different for a change and go to Boston for a night out. It went poorly. The journey in was a nighmare, but I thought it was just a momentary road block. Turns out, it was just the first thing to go wrong.

The Game Plan

We had a decent game plan: my friend Caleb and I would drive into the city early, get a parking spot that was affordable (not easy to do in Boston on a Friday night), and wait for my other friend Sherman to take the train to North Station. Easy peasy right? Wrong.

To The City

After arriving at Caleb’s house, we begin our trek into the city. Since Caleb used to drive into the city every day for work, he drives in, since I’m a very bad city driver, and would like to survive the night. It turns out this would be one of the better choices I made that night. Driving into the city on a Friday is one thing, but it was also Halloweekend, and there was a Celtics game that night, so we couldn’tve had worse timing. Cars littered the Mass Pike like some post-apocalyptic wasteland, none of them moving for minutes at a time. Wonderful. 20 minutes later, we were finally in Boston. Our next challenge was dealing with Boston drivers, who are a whole different species than regular drivers. Our welcome into the city was performed by a Silver Honda who had blocked both lanes.

A regular day in Boston

Now, I’m pretty tolerant of stupid people, but this guy was too much, not only did he block both lanes, preventing anyone else from passing, but it turned out he was waiting to pick someone up. After almost getting hit by 3 additional morons, we arrive to the parking garage had in mind. I knew the night had taken a turn when I saw the two worst words you can see on a parking garage: “Lot Full” Great, now we have to find another one that’s not too far away, and isn’t going to scalp my wallet. After driving a additional 10 minutes around the Seaport, we got lucky: a lot for only 7 dollars an hour, an oasis in a sea of 50 dollar parking. I get my ticket, and put it straight in my wallet as I always do. Thank God I did.

Finding Sherman

Now for the fun part: finding one person in a sea of thousands leaving the TD Garden after a Celtics win.

Imagine 3,000 of these people, but drunker

After walking a mile and a half in the blistering Boston wind, Caleb and I arrive at the Garden. We looked for Sherman for around 10 minutes before calling him, apparently he was waiting on the other side of the street, which explains why we couldn’t find him. We eventually pick him out of a crowd of drunk basketball fans who were singing a barely-recognizable version of Don’t Stop Believing. After finally meeting up, we decide to nix our plan and go straight for the nearest bar that didn’t look crazy packed.

Bar Experience

Now, I’m not a big “crowds” guy, so I usually avoid crowded bars and places where I have to yell to talk, but I’m trying to get out and be more outgoing and such, so I thought it would be good for me to go to a more populated place. Within 45 seconds of arriving, I reconsidered my decision. The bar that had looked so empty and quiet on the outside was actually packed to the rafters with Finance bros in their Brooks Brothers suits and Patagonia vests. The only upside of this location was how quickly I was served a beer, the bartender was on top of her game, and I appreciated how quickly I had a beer in my hand. After learning that thevbar had a second floor, we mosey on over, taking an elevator up. I’d never drank beer in an elevator before, it was pretty cool. After reaching the second floor, we see that while it is less packed than downstairs, this part of the bar is still overpopulated with Patagonias. Surprisingly, we find a table and sit down. As I sip my overpriced beer, I start to be immersed in the conversations around me, none of them very interesting, most about basketball, the rest about how much working in Finance rocks, and how laid they’re going to get. Way to break stereotypes there guys. We finish our drinks and decide not to stay at this expensive post-graduation frat house. As we leave, Caleb suggests we stop at Pizzeria Regina, an amazing pizza place that’s open until the wee hours of the night. It’s half a mile away.

Rejuvenation at Regina’s

As we walk to Regina’s, I notice that we are very far away from our parking lot, and that we have quite a trek ahead of us on our way back. That didn’t matter, I was fixated on having a couple slices of amazing pizza and a beer or two, everything else was unimportant at the time. Just as we’re starting to have second thoughts, we see it: the giant neon sign for Regina.

Hello, you beautiful bastard

We made it. After a brief wait, the server seats us and takes our order. Now, my pizza taste is a little odd, I’ve been in this pesto sauce mood lately, so I’ve been experimenting with different toppings. Tonight, I ordered a bacon pizza with pesto sauce. 5 minutes later, the server comes back with a chicken and pesto pizza, which isn’t a problem for me, but our server felt so bad that she offered to put extra bacon on it for no extra charge. How nice of her. After another couple minutes, she drops off this monster of a pizza with more toppings than cheese, and we all dig in like it’s our last meal on Earth. After we finish our beers and pizza, we begin the long walk back to the parking lot.

Finding the Car

By this point, it’s 12:30, and I’m starting to get tired, but we have a 3 mile hike before I can sit down and relax, so I figured the only way through it is to do it. We made it about a mile before I realize that the address on the parking ticket is for the wrong garage, and we’d been walking in the wrong direction for 20 minutes. Shit. Usually, every parking ticket I’ve ever gotten has the address and name of the garage, making it easy to find where you parked. Not this one. After having a mini panic attack at the thought of losing my car in Boston at 1 in the morning, my mind starts working. I check the GPS tracking app on my phone to see where we had stopped, and after double-checking with Google that it was indeed the place, we resume our journey. Around 30 minutes later, we arrive at where my GPS says my car is. There’s just one problem: it’s not the right lot. Now I really start freaking out, Caleb’s got work at 730, I’ve got to come in early myself, it’s going to be at least an hour and a half before I get home, and I can’t find my car. Things are looking bleak. After pacing around the area thinking of a plan, I see it, the most beautiful sight I’d seen all night: my car. After letting out a scream of joy, we rush over to the car, pay the 18 dollars for our parking, and get the Hell out of Boston. It’s 1:30.

The Journey Home

Now, I’d say Caleb drove like a bat out of Hell, but that wouldn’t accurately describe how fast this man left the city. I’d liken it to how a husband drives his wife to the hospital when she’s in labor. What’s usually a 45 minute drive took us 32, which I was thankful for. As we near Sherman’s car, Caleb starts looking tired, and his driving skills start to suffer. Seeing ad he had to get up in 4 hours, I decide to take over and let him rest a bit. As I sped home, I thought about how we’d laugh at how terrible this night was later. When I finally arrived back at my house, it was 3:15am. I set my alarm clock for 8:30, cringing when I saw how much time I had before I had to wake up.

I could’ve stayed home, watched Mad Men, and been asleep by 11:30. This is why I don’t like to leave my house.

Dumbasses at Dunkin: Part One

So, it’s super rainy and slow today, so I’ve got some time on my hands, and I know how many people enjoy my Dunkin disasters, so I figured I’d write another one while still at work.

Right out of the gate, we lost power, which, in addition to killing my tunes, killed the walk-in and our Point of Sale system. Fantastic. I called my district manager, and she came in to see what she could do, because apparantly resetting the router didn’t work. When she arrived, she asked what I had done, as if I had somehow killed the power myself. She then proceeded to reset the router, and when that didn’t work, she called my manager and yelled at her. Apparently she should’ve predicted that we’d lose power. After the yelling was complete, the district manager decided the best course of action was to hit buttons until something changed. After around 20 minutes of this madness, she had run out of ideas, and left.

Now, I figured that this would be my excitement for the day, but I was wrong. So, if you’ve read my other posts, you’ll know that my Dunkin is attached to a gas station, and this is the source of much confusion, as people apparently can’t figure out why a coffee shop doesn’t sell gas. After informing a group of people that I couldn’t pump their gas, I look outside and I see it; a man trying to light a cigarette while pumping gas. Usually, I would let nature take its course, but I really didn’t want to have to clean up after he met his fiery demise. Luckily, a large construction worker beat me to it, smacking the cigarette out of his mouth and asking him “The fuck’s wrong with you? You tryna blow us all up?” Well put, Construction Guy.

It’s around 2:30 now, and things are still slow. A customer comes in and asks for a bagel, no big deal, but after I give him said bagel, he remains at the counter. Apparently, he has an issue being given a bag for his bagel. After looking at him for a second, I ask why he’s got a problem. He responds with a rant about how we could be recycling the bags, and using the bags more than once. Now, I do my best to recycle and go green and all that, but I’m not about to reuse bags that have had food in them. After informing the gentleman of our food safety guidelines, he stares at me for a second, and laughs to himself like he can’t comprehend how someone could think he was wrong. As he walks out, the girl behind him barely contains a laugh, confirming that I’m not just an asshole.

I thought that my fun was over for the day, but I was wrong again. Our bathroom is a bit of a wildcard: some days it works,some days it doesn’t flush, and some days it pushes water up. Today was a “push water up” type of day. Usually, people are understanding when I tell them that the bathroom’s broken, but every once in a while, we have some issues. Today, I was accosted by a woman who apparently decided that the water leaking out from under the bathroom door was insufficient evidence that it was broken. She then demanded to use the “employee bathroom” because apparently we have one, which is news to me. After informing her that I have been using a spot behind the dumpster, she flew into a rage, and demanded that we give her access to the broken bathroom. Seeing as this woman looks like she doesn’t have the healthiest diet and would further agitate the plumbing, I directed her to my spot behind the dumpster. As she stormed out, the woman informed us she would be leaving us a bad review on Yelp.

Other than that, my day has been pretty quiet, the network is down, so my workload has been cut in half for the day, leaving me ample time to make fun of morons who can’t behave in public. Hopefully, I’m not here much longer, these people are starting to get to me.

Another Day at Dunks

If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know that I work at a gas station Dunkin Donuts, A.K.A Hell on Earth. I don’t say this lightly, but I’d rather wait at the RMV for 8 hours than go to work. It’s been an eventful day, so I figured I’d share it.

Immediately upon arrival, I could tell that it’s been a day. The thousand-yard stares from my co-workers told me that I was for a treat today. The store itself looked like it had been bombed, robbed, and abandoned for years, so I spent the first hour and a half making the store look presentable.

My first troublesome customer came in a whopping 45 minutes after I arrived, a new record. He came in lumbering over to my side of the store, incoherently hollering his order for God and the whole store to hear. As he came closer to the counter, I got a whiff of cheap whiskey and Marlboro Reds, the offical scent of assholes. I tried to make small talk with this man while his food cooked, and initially he had no interest, but after he got his food, he became a Chatty Kathy, talking about his asshole boss, his incompetent co-workers, and the Indian guy who owns the gas station across from me. He did not have nice, wholesome things to say about him. Now, the Indian guy, (who normally goes by “Raj”) is usually a gaping prolapsed anus, but in this case, he had a point. The customer was upset about the price of a Gatorade, which is a stupid thing to argue about, and decided to take out his frustration on an unsuspecting Dunkin Donuts employee. After nodding and smiling along as this man ranted and raved, I thank my lucky stars that I’m not as much of a trainwreck as that guy.

After the interesting afternoon, the day started to stagnate, so I turn on some tasty jams ( I’ve been getting into Jack Johnson lately) and begin to prep food for tomorrow. I get about halfway done when one of my regulars came in: a truly delightful nurse who always tips well and calls me “munchkin”. This is a much-needed recharge, as she always makes sure I’ve been drinking water and that I’ve had lunch. I try to hook her up as much as I can, because the world needs more people like her.

My day continued uneventfully until 4pm: which is usually the dinner bell for the crazies. The first one I got is the rarest type of crazy: the nice crazy. She came in, and from the look on her face, she’d either been doing Ecstasy all day, or she was on enough medication that the world seemed like a giant Wes Anderson movie. She came up to the counter, and ordered a small coffee with 18 creams, 6 sugars, and extra ice, which leaves maybe 4 sips of actual coffee. She got her coffee, took a sip, and then proceeded to sing about how she got her coffee.

The next customer that came in is an old woman who didn’t speak English, so now I had to play 20 questions to figure out what she wanted. After about 3 minutes of pointing to items on the menu, I make out one word “Decaf” which narrowed things down a bit. As I tried to figure out how this woman wanted her coffee, another regular showed up. This particular regular is another one of my favorites because he’s always stoned to the gills, to the level where he looks like the stony hippy from Half-Baked. He stood behind this woman with a look of glee on his face, knowing that he is only moments away from enjoying a sugary treat. The longer it takes for this woman to order her coffee, the more this wonderful hippy will begin to question his decision, so I know that I needed to speed the process up. After finally figuring out what this woman wanted, ol’ Smokey came to the counter. With a barely-contained smile, he ordered 3 donuts, and you would’ve thought Jesus Christ himself had made them the way he looked after he got them.

Remember how I said Raj was a gaping anal fissure? Well, here’s some proof; a woman’s car broke down at our store, which is located off a major road, and he wanted her to leave because she didn’t want to buy anything. She came in looking to use a phone, because her’s was dead, and he started yelling for her to leave. As you can probably guess, this woman’s car wasn’t really going anywhere, so Raj called a towtruck and towed her car away, with her yelling and pleading for him to just let her use a phone.

My day winded down with the usual hectic race to close, and looking back, today was better than yesterday, but let’s see what tomorrow brings.