These knuckleheads at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru are really starting to cheese me off!


Normally I’m a big fan of Dunkin Donuts (or as my shirt says, “Funkin Gonuts” LOL), but lately, that place is really startin’ to twist my nips. For years I’ve been stopping by every morning for my cup o’ joe and a sausage, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich on a sesame bagel. You just can’t beat their coffee and normally their service is excellent but in the last month or so, things have definitely started to go downhill.

I don’t know if it’s new management or employees or what, but they just can’t seem to get my order right. First they gave me a sandwich with bacon instead of sausage. No big deal, it was still delicious. I’m just lucky that I’m not Jewish or something, cuz they’re not allowed to eat bacon. But I’m Episcopalian, so no harm done.

I didn’t even say anything the next time I came by, I figured I’d just let it roll. So I get to work and when I take out my sandwich, there’s no frickin’ napkins! Two days in a row is just ridiculous so you better believe I said something when I went back the next day.

I started to give those you-know-what’s a piece of my mind but they were very understanding and apologetic and gave me a free cinnamon roll for my trouble. I figured, “problem solved” and I didn’t encounter any more shenanigans for the next few days or so. But wouldn’t you know it, Monday rolls around and I get to work and there’s no gosh darn egg on my sandwich!!!

Now this is when I realize these guys are just being jerks. I should probably have just taken my business elsewhere but at that time of morning, taking a left on Maple to get to the Burger King is suicide. Easily another fifteen minutes to my commute. So I stick the sandwich in the fridge and head back to Dunkin Donuts on my lunch hour, this time with proof that someone’s got it out for me.

Now the manager is tryin’ real hard to calm me down and all, saying it was an honest mistake, but I’m not having any of it. He tries to convince me that there’s no conspiracy against me and how would anyone even know it was the same guy and a whole bunch of baloney like that. If anyone knows me, they know I have a really distinctive voice. It’s very high-pitched on account of getting my throat run over during hockey practice back in high school. So I’m sure these clowns working the drive-thru say “Oh, here comes ol’ high pitch, give him a sandwich without any eggs!” or something along those lines.

Finally, I just give up. They make me a new sandwich, this time I check it and I steam off to my car and back to work. Well that brouhaha took so long, I didn’t even have time to eat the darn thing! I had to get right back to sorting pinwheels at the toy factory where I work. So no breakfast, no lunch and eight hours of separating the silver pinwheels from the red and blue ones – you better believe I was hotter than heck when I got home that night. Thank the Lord I don’t have a wife to come home to or it would have been, “To the moon, Alice!”

That was just an example, that’s a line from that old show “Father Knows Best”, so if I had a wife, her name probably wouldn’t even be Alice. That’s not even a popular name these days.

Anyway, things just got worse. I started getting donuts, croissants, sandwiches with no eggs or cheese, stuff like that. I swear that one time my sausage was even undercooked! Now, fun is fun but that’s just plain dangerous!

I didn’t say anything though. I just took whatever they gave me and choked it down. All the while plotting my revenge. I put on a happy face when I’d roll up to that window, as if I either didn’t notice or it just didn’t bother me. Little did they know what lay in store for them!

So one morning I get there about an hour early. I roll up to the sign and I ask the box for one hundred sausage, egg and cheese sandwiches. They try and talk me out of it, but I’m pretty insistent.

“Well sir, unfortunately, we don’t have that many sesame bagels,” the teenage punk tells me.

I start to worry that maybe they realize something’s up. “Well, that’s OK, just give me whatever kind of bagels you’ve got,” I say.

“Sir, please pull forward.”

Uh oh. I thought about just making a run for it right there but I kept my cool and pulled up to the window. I explained that I was picking up a big order for work and I was willing to wait while they made the sandwiches.

Now, of course, nobody’s gonna just hand over 100 breakfast sandwiches without getting the money up front, but I was prepared for this. I had cashed my whole week’s salary last Friday, instead of depositing it into my checking account. Rent be damned, it was time for some revenge!

So I hand over what came to almost 3 bills and pull into a spot in the front of the store and wait for my order. About 45 minutes later, I see all the employees getting everything ready. I start my car.

A line of about six of them, carrying four or five bags each, start to make their way out to my Ford Festiva. Just as the first one is about to tap on the glass of my passenger side window, I put the car in drive, floor the accelerator and peel out of the parking lot at nearly six miles an hour!

Oh gosh, it was so great! You should have seen the looks on their faces! They went and made a hundred breakfast sandwiches all for nothing! If there are sausage, egg and cheese sandwiches in Heaven, they can’t be as delicious as the sweet, sweet, victorious revenge I tasted that day. Even as I type this, I can barely contain my laughter, the memory is so perfect and vivid.

Of course, I could never go back there, after that. I was so nervous they were gonna call the cops on me, I didn’t even go into work that day. I called in sick and hid out at the Wal-Mart three towns over til I figured the coast was clear. When I didn’t hear any sirens or see any FBI agents looking for me, I headed back home to my basement studio apartment. By then it was about ten thirty at night.

I tell you what, I do miss that cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee every morning. Usually I just bring in a can of Pringles for breakfast but the Sanka they brew in the company break room really can’t compare to the rich blend I’m used to.

But still, all in all, would I do it again? You bet your sweet behind I would!

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20 comments

    1. I can’t believe you thought you were getting even with them-they probably laughed all the way to the bank. And Jewish people can’t eat sausage, either.

  1. well, if you paid for the sandwiches, why would they be angry that you pulled off without taking them? they could just give them away, throw them away or eat them, whatever..they were paid. anyway, you’re a nut and I love reading your stuff, keep it up. Deb

  2. Hey, Eric. I just had an idea. Perhaps instead of going out and actually participating in these strange but hilarious scenarios, as you so obviously did here, you should instead make up a bunch of funny stories and then publish them in a comedy “weblog” (try calling at a “blog” for fun, and also to save time!). That would be quite hilarious, it would save you hundreds of dollars, and it would keep those pesky FBI agents off your case. Also, it would keep people like “Unknown” above from calling you an idiot, since the stories would obviously be fictional. Just a thought. See you next time!

  3. Can I borrow your car? I know you’re sleeping in it, and you’ll probably have to drive since you’ve been surgically implanted into it, but I would give just about anything to roll up to my 10-year reunion in a Festiva. I could really show those fools a thing or two about living it up in the real world. Losers.

    Side bar: The next time you decide to stick it to The Man, you might get one of those voice changers and look for a less distinguishable car. Also, I fail to see what’s so wrong with the Donut Man doin’ a little “nip twisting”.

  4. Ah, sweet memories. Ginger Ale’s comment reminds me of my youth, when I was touched inappropriately on a repeated basis by the Time To Make The Donuts Guy. Sure, there was pain when he would twist my nipples, but also a slight tickle, what with his hairy knuckles and all. I don’t remember much after that. At that point I would usually retreat to Happy Smile Land, where things were never sweaty and uncomfortable.

  5. Nobody touches my wheels! You hear me? Nobody!

    I do have a voice changer, but it doesn’t work well cuz after a few times, they go, “Oh hey, it’s the guy with the Darth Vader voice changer again, go block him in.”

    I think his name was Fred. And he was also the guy for some sour cream company or something. I remember that being a big source of confusion for me and my brother. Sorry you got molested or whatever, but I’ve seen pictures of you as a kid. You were asking for it.

  6. I’ve actually got a photo of me sitting shirtless on the hood of a Festiva. I was 9 years old and had just gotten a voice changer, which you can see me using in the photo. Pretty weird coincidence huh?

    I was never molested by anyone though.

    Sigh…

  7. If this is made up,you could have done much better. If it’s true,you didn’t get revenge. They just got your $300 and probably gave away free sandwiches and laughed at you for a while.

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