Ugh! So much introspection! It's time for a break. First, much thanks must go to Twiggle, who did this lovely lovely redesign of my journal! Isn�t it beautiful? It�s even better because I didn�t have to do it! If you�re looking for your own new look that you don�t want to create with your own sweat and toil, I would highly recommend her.
Now that I�m breaking from digging through my own life�s archives, it�s the perfect opportunity to tell you the worst thing that's happened to me. Be prepared. It is most horrorific.
My Dunkin Donuts store closed. Suddenly. Without warning. I went to get a cup of coffee after work the Monday before Christmas, and there was a handwritten �Closed� sign in the window. Handwritten �Closed� signs never bode well.
I hoped they decided to close for the holidays. Why not give all those employees a break? Not the permanent one I feared, just a nice reward. Ev did work there seventeen whole years. And my favorite employee who didn�t wear a nametag the one and only day I looked, so I don�t know her name, but she always had my coffee ready for me when she saw me certainly deserved a vacation--a real one, not the kind I suspect she got.
I got one of those phone calls once. I was working at ChiChi�s in Omaha, my first waitressing job. I quickly made my way up the server food chain (Ha! I kill me!) to lead and then to trainer. So maybe I did cut my hand like a clumsy oaf by trying to catch a falling glass, proceeded to pass out in the manager�s office, and went to the ER where I got the first stitches in my entire life (not related to childbirth, that doesn�t count) which was paid by Workman�s Comp, no less. It couldn�t have been more than a thousand dollars. I was certainly worth that, wasn�t I? But maybe I wasn�t, because my friend and manager, Betty, was telling me I didn�t have to come into work that day or ever again. I was devastated until she went on to tell me that ChiChi�s was closed, bankrupt, kaput. How in the world does a big restaurant chain like that close, I wondered? But at least it wasn�t me, unless that Workman�s Comp claim sent them over the edge.
I wonder if it was like that for those poor Dunkin Donuts employees. Did they get a call that day telling them not to come in? Did they get any warning? Was it like me that Monday, walking up to the door with a handwritten �Closed� sign? And if anyone did know, why weren�t the loyal customers warned? Right before Christmas too. We all got the rug yanked out from under our coffee-drinking feet.
You know I went right home and called the place, but the phone just rang and rang. I started searching on local web sites for information but got nothing. I only found an article about another Dunkin Donuts store up north that finally reopened after a big remodeling project. It too was located close to a newly opened Krispy Kreme.
Krispy Kreme is the bane of donut shops everywhere. I know people love their Krispy Kreme donuts, but have people ever noticed that their coffee tastes like ass, or is it just covered up with all that sugary glaze coating your mouths? Obviously, the donuts are enough for some but not for me. I am not a big donut fan. I don�t mind a fresh Krispy Kreme every once in a while, but I won�t make any special trips, and the ass coffee is definitely a deterrent.
But now, that�s all that�s left. The Donut Connection down the same street as Krispy Kreme closed up shop a few months ago with a remodeling sign on their marquee. Now there�s a for sale sign in the window though, so I don�t think there will be any remodeling going on, at least for that store. And now Dunkin Donuts is closed too. I refuse to go to Krispy Kreme any more. I don�t care that Booie absolutely loves a hot, fresh donut. I don�t care that they are the only decent place to get donuts. I�m not going. I hate them. They ruined my life.
In my desperation, I wrote to the reporter of the article about the Dunkin Donuts up north. She wrote back, telling me she understood my pain as she�s a Dunkin coffee addict too. She sent the phone number for the headquarters and said she�d forward my email to the South reporter. I figured that was about as far as it would go, but then I got a message from the South reporter who was assigned to do an article on this. She put a call in to Dunkin�s headquarters herself and asked for my phone number to get my reaction after they get back to her about my store. I couldn�t help myself. I gave her my number and good times to call me. I think it most appropriate that I�d get in the paper because of coffee. I�m still waiting to hear from her though, so it might not happen. It�s still pretty funny that the whole thing has gone this far.
I used the last of my bagged coffee this morning and made a call to John to stop by the downtown Dunkin location. It�s the only place left that is anywhere close to me, since the other southern location, that isn�t all that close to us but close enough, changed owners and changed to another donut chain along with it. Now to get a cup of fresh Dunkin coffee, I have to go downtown. And how can I ever complain about a husband that will go out of his way to get bagged coffee for me? I�ll try to remember that when I do future griping.
So my life is totally ruined, thanks to Krispy Kreme. I�d call for a ban on them, but I�m afraid the crack-laced glaze is too much for most people to deny. I wouldn�t ask addicts to give that up, but I�ve been forced to temper my own addiction because of them. I guess the pull of sugar is just too much stronger than the pull of the coffee bean. But I will still curse them and not set one toe in that store unless my Dunkin Donuts comes back.
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One Year Ago Today:
One Job for Another
