Some days this particular category acts as a catch all for postings I usually just want to share with the world and the topic doesn’t really fit into any of the other categories. Then there are days when the only thing you want to accomplish is to get a cup of coffee and the snotty, fascist coffee wench that is pouring the brew is going to do everything in her limited power to piss you off. And she succeeds, only too well.
Lately I’ve been starting the day with a couple of cups of coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. One for the morning; the other goes in the fridge for the afternoon’s delight of “iced” coffee. Where I live, there are about 50 DD’s within a three mile radius. OK, I might be exaggerating… there’s probably only 48. The problem is that of the seven [that’s the real number – honest] places, none of them are convenient for me, and that’s the challenge every morning.
I live on a road that has a guard rail, so when I come out my driveway, I have to always make a right turn: this knocks out three places already, because I’d have to make a first U-turn and then another U-turn just to get to the place and that’s annoying. On to Route 8 and through to Shelton: there’s a DD that’s part of a gas station right off an exit… nice right? The drivers of the fifty other cars that in the lot agree. Besides that Dunkin’s coffee is ass 24/7: every pot tastes burned. OK, but wait – there’s another DD with good coffee, just right around the corner! Buuuut that one had a fire and is waiting [for insurnace money, no doubt] to be remodelled. That leaves another DD that is sort of out of my way – puts me an extra exit up on Rt 8 – but their coffee is good… Their parking lot is a nightmare, but no one has hit me for the past couple of weeks, so that’s become the new standby (until I get hit or dinged that one time).
Today I ordered my normal order: two coffees, both light and two sugar. She pours them. While she’s doing that, and since the place is packed nuts to butts, I decide to be a nice customer and take a tray off the top of their tray stack. Since the trays usually stick together, there’s some prying to set one free, and I figure this would save her some time. I put the tray down on the counter. She brings over the two coffees. She puts on in the tray. “Nah, I don’t think you need a tray – I want to save them, so I’ll give you a bag,” she says. I blink. I blink again. “Excuse me,” I ask, “but, what?” She rolls her eyes and says, “I’m going to give you a bag for your coffees.”
It’s early. I’m trying to get into the spirit of Spring and have a better outlook in the real world. She’s trying to… well I guess if it saves paper… she’s fucking with my bean!
“A bag? Um, OK, but if that spills out on me, you’ll be hearing back from me,” I reply, some what playfully. She huffs at me. Literally. She huggs. Like I’m being a pain in the ass for trying to get what I asked for, oh I don’t know, because I’m the customer or something… and as a customer I a) don’t wanna be like Steve and get burned, b) have to drive in a Wrangler that has enough room to put the tray down, but with no location to successfully balance a bag with two cups of steaming liquid while driving and c) I didn’t ask for a bag – I asked for a tray and d) I’m the customer! She replies to my silent exasperation with “And I don’t want you to have to worry, which is why I’m going to double bag them.” So no ecological reason… two wax coated bags have to be more paper than this worthless recycled tray, whose sole purpose is to carry coffee and make my life easier…
And that’s when I noticed that she only had three trays on her stack. Other people had more – she only had three. Too lazy to get more out of the store room, I’m betting. And packing massive attitude to boot. I think tomorrow morning I’ll order some Munchkins from her, if only to extract revenge.
I was willing to let it all go and not bother to post about it, but the bitch didn’t even make the coffee right – it’s dark with too much sugar. *sigh*