Sunday, August 26, 2007

America Runs on Dunkin

When I initiated my job search, I applied to all the cool hot spots in Simsbury (a slightly less boring version of my town, located 15 min from my house). I imagined myself being the cool chick working at Barnes and Noble, always sneaking around and reading books when her boss wasn't watching. Then, I imagined myself working at Flatbread, a hippie, all-organic pizza place. I would be looked at as the bohemian waitress who flirted for extra tips. Just as I was getting caught up in all these hypothetical situations, I was shocked and disappointed when none of my hypothetical employers called me back. When I realized that everywhere I wanted to work would never hire me for one reason or another, I applied to the local Dunkin Donuts. To my sheer horror and apparent misfortune, I got hired on the spot.


Dunkin Donuts isn't the best working environment for a person of low tolerance to utter stupidity and especially not for a person with a notoriously low level of patience. However, with hard work and motivation to keep those pitiful, depressingly low, but much needed paychecks coming, I have become quite tolerant and quite patient to the many "eXpresso" digging assholes, if you will. Every Saturday, Sunday, and Monday I am graced with the presence of hundreds of Dunkin Donut customers. A large part, fuck, the vast majority of the customers lack all common sense. They go up to the counter and suddenly it fucking escapes them. They insist on using what I like to refer to as a "12 inch voice" where you can only hear what they're saying if you are 12 inches away from them. If I ask them to repeat it, they repeat it and either get confused and forget their order or get annoyed with me for not quite having the sensitivity of hearing that a German shepherd might possess.


Our mvc's (most valued customers) are ones who think it is their civic duty, nay, their responsibility as a citizen of the United States, to tell me how fucking expensive our products are. As if, I personally priced them and am reaping all the proceeds. IDIOTS.

ANYWAYS.

One elderly man actually discussed with me (side note: it wasn't actually a "discussion" considering he was just spitting words in my face as I imagined how justified I would be in killing him.) for 15 minutes about how Dunkin Donuts has a lot of competition with Tim Horton's. 15 FUCKING MINUTES. As if it were my fault that we charge a $1.80 for a medium coffee as opposed to a $1.16 at Tim Horton's. He was quite enthusiastic when rubbing it in my face that Tim Horton's has an appetizing beef stew, and Dunkin Donuts did not. I responded by, "Although this is all quite interesting, and I fully intend to take this up with my manager, there are customers behind you interested in buying coffee. I truly apologize for the absence of beef stew on the DUNKIN FUCKING DONUTS menu, perhaps you could try a restaurant or a nursing home. buhbye" (I didn't actually say any of that. But I had you going for a sec there, didn't I?)


Before, I would get quite annoyed and frustrated with the customers, but it has now gotten to a point where I am faced with constantly swallowing my pride. I like to do my affirmations every morning before work. I repeat to myself, "You are much, much more intelligent than all the Dunkin Donut customers combined." And then I write this on my mirror in lipstick and proceed to ponder exactly when my life took a turn for the worst.
Yet another added bonus to working at the wonderful establishment of D&D, I now hate children and their parents. When there are about 10 people waiting in line to be served that are already pretty antsy because they haven't had their morning coffee yet, probably the worst thing to do is hold your 3 year old up to the counter and have them tell me the 5 course meal everyone would like. They just spit out random words like "bagel. Sprinkles. Poppy. Vanilla. Coffee. Straw." Now I don't blame the children for not knowing how to order at the age of 4, but I do blame the parents. Dunkin Donuts at 9am on a Saturday is totally not at all the place to teach your toddler how to act like a grown up. Not even a little bit, folks. A mother will tell the child, "Now give the change to the nice lady!" and then the conversation will then proceed as, "Ohh! What a good boy! You're such a good boy! You get a treat! Can he have a treat? What kind of treat would you like Jacob? …a what? Why don't you tell the nice lady what you want." And then we are back to where we started, me trying to figure out what the fuck kind of donut a 4 year old would like.
Finally, probably one of the best parts of my job is going home and reeking of spoiled coffee and donuts. I've been told I've smelled like onions and wet dog. It's like a little part of Dunkin Donuts gets to stay with me all day long. In fact whatever I touch, at any point after working, seems to soon after have a distinct smell of Dunkin Donuts. No matter how big the space I occupy after working, it always seems to become overwhelmed with this smell. I've had to bleach my work clothes, just to get the smell of coffee and bacon, egg, & cheese sandwiches out of the fibers. I have stained just about every pair of khakis I own, and my converse are covered in confectionery sugar and jelly. But I suppose my incessant unpleasant smell acts as a friendly reminder that I am done working for the day and probably won't have to go back to my personal hell for at least 24 hours.


After all my ranting about the horrible, slightly terrifying side effects of working at Dunkin Donuts, I must at least say that I have made great friends there. It also doesn't hurt that I make a decent pay check and have excellent hours. Then again I have only worked there for a little under two months. Who knows, in a few more I might be highly medicated and fired for lashing out a senior citizen explaining to me all about the elevating competition between Tim Horton's and Dunkin Donuts. But I like to stay positive.




(I actually wrote this a few months back. I ended up getting a new boss who was fucking INSANE, forcing me no choice but to leave the fine establishment of Dunkin Donuts. I've since been a member of Subway, hated that shit too. Quit. And am now waitressing. Fuck corporate America. I refuse to work at another franchise. Its all bullshit. Fuck Yeah Waitressing! I'll be getting paid shit tons of money (by my standards) but really, the tips aren't bad!)

2 comments:

TK said...

HEY! I'm a Dunkies customer, you know! Don't insult me.

I'm kidding. I mean, I do love Dunkies, but I hope I'm not one of those infuriating customers who drives the staff crazy. I know how you feel though. My first summer after college I pictured myself doing the Kevin Smith thing in a video store. Instead I ended up working construction. Bummer.

ETP said...

Well, tk, you seem far more intelligent than any of the people I served at Dunkies. So I doubt you're one of the bonehead customers I described.

and yeah, you always envision yourself working at a wayy cooler job. optimism blows.