Where do I begin? At the beginning I suppose. Back when I was pregs my morning coffee was like a million dollar bill shoved in my rear. If I didn’t have it – look out man. Look out. So, as you know if you’ve been reading my blog, every morning I went to Dunkin Donuts and indulged in an iced coffee. And my kid is fine, so please spare me the comments about drinking caffeine while being pregnant. I did it. So kill me.
I would walk in everyday with my Juicy Couture bag and a big smile. I’d go up to the counter to place my order – usually with the cutest blonde chick ever that I see often and absolutely love. And for the record she makes my iced coffee absolutely perfect. “Good morning!” I’d exclaim. “I’d like a medium iced coffee please!”
Within the snap of a finger she’d have my order, PERFECT! and I’d have the money sitting on the counter – down to the dime – and I’d be yelling “Thanks!” as I was off on my way.
I would then say good-bye to my stalker, hop in my Benz and drive to work.
Side note – I haven’t talked about my stalker in a while. It’s because I hadn’t seen him. I know. This pained me as much as it pains you. But, I did finally see him last week. See I’ve been trying to be more fiscally responsible – LAME! I know – and make my coffee at home. Dunkin Donuts could possibly go out of business because of this. Luckily for them my laziness has come back, and I’ve been back to going to Dunkin’ to get my cup of morning java. That said, I ran into my stalker in the parking lot two weeks ago and was actually excited to see him. (I know, a strange concept really, but do you remember my blog post about my stalker becoming the stalkee????)
Anyways, I said good morning to him and asked him if he got a new car (he did.)
He asked me if I dyed my hair (I did.)
I asked him if he liked my hair better blonde or black (OK, brown, it’s not black). He said he liked it better blonde.
He asked if I had a boy or a girl (A girl.)
That was the jist of our convo and now I went off on a tangent. Back to getting my morning Dunkin’.
So, one day, back when I was pregs, I went in to Dunkin Donuts to get my iced coffee. The gal behind the counter was not my cute blonde friend. She wasn’t really very nice to be honest. I blew it off, was my uber-polite self, and asked for my iced coffee.
Then, I got in my car (coffee in hand) and pulled away. As I’m driving to work I opened my straw and excitedly shoved the straw in the cup, like a junkie needing his fix. I take a big loving sip of my coffee.
What. The. Fuck. Is. This?????????????????????????
THIS IS NOT AN ICED COFFEE.
WHAT THE FUCK????????????????????
I’m already half way to the office. This is fucked up, man, I think. I’m pregnant, and I want my iced coffee NOW. I pull a U-y while phoning my office. It’s 7:59, and I’m gonna be late now, but there is no way in hell I’m sitting through a day at work without my iced coffee. No way.
My boss is like please, for the love of God, get your coffee!
He knows not to mess with a pregnant chick!
I go back to Dunkin Donuts and walk in. OK, I don’t have a shit-eating grin on my face, no, but I’m not rude. I walk in and go up to the counter.
“Hi, I was just here.”
Dunkin Bitch stares at me like I just threw up in her face. She’s just staring at me like I’m speaking another language.
“Hi, I was just here.” I hold up my iced coffee (or not iced coffee). I say, “Yeah, I asked for an iced coffee and this is an iced latte.”
Dunkin Bitch looks at me and says, “No it’s not. I gave you an iced coffee.”
WHOA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What happened to the customer is always right? And further, as if to insult my intelligence, are you really telling me that I don’t know the difference between an iced coffee and an iced latte? Listen, lady, I know coffee like Donald Trump knows hair. Uhh…wait, that didn’t work.
I look at her and smile. I very politely say: “No, it isn’t. It’s an iced latte.”
Dunkin Bitch: “No, I gave you iced coffee.”
OK – now I’m getting pissed off. I look at her – stare at her – and very politely – but very firmly – say, “Listen. Take a sip if you want. I’m not trying to be a bitch. I come in here all the time. All I want is an iced coffee and this isn’t an iced coffee.”
A guy who knows me walks over and says, “What’s wrong?”
I said, “I ordered an iced coffee and this is an iced latte. All I want is an iced coffee please.”
The guy looks at Dunkin Bitch like WTF, just get her an iced coffee and Dunkin Bitch says, “It’s an iced coffee. I made it myself.”
This bitch wanted to get pummeled!
I looked at the man and said (a little more angrily now, cuz I’m getting sick of this shit!) “Take a sip if you want. It’s not iced coffee!”
The man says, “OK! Just get her an iced coffee would ya,” while Dunkin Bitch just stares at me.
I mean, seriously, what the heck. I’m being polite. Even if you are 1,000% positive that you gave me an iced coffee are you really going to sit and argue with a pregnant female at 8 o’clock in the morning who hasn’t had her coffee yet? Why couldn’t she just give me another coffee and be done with me? It’s not like I drank the whole thing and then came back and asked for another coffee. I took one sip! Plus I’m in there all the time!
Dunkin Bitch FINALLY gives me my iced coffee. I look at her. I smile. I say, “Thank you, and have a nice day. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I just wanted my coffee.”
No smile. No thank you. No apology. Zip.
I leave and think, Well, fuck her. At least I have my iced coffee.
As God is my witness, I’m driving back to work – again – (and it’s now 8:15 a.m. after all this fighting with Dunkin Bitch) and I take a sip of my iced coffee. For the love of God, it’s an iced latte. Again. Is this some kind of a sick joke that I’m the butt of?
At this point I’m like I need to just go to work and drink an iced latte today. But, I’m pissed. Inside I’m like boiling. I wanted an iced coffee, damn it! Here comes “King Baby” – I want iced coffee and I want it NOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!
I get to work and walk in huffing and puffing about the iced latte. My boss stares at me. I can tell he’s scared. He wonders if I’m going to kill him over an iced latte. It was possible at that moment. Seriously.
I sit at my desk. I look up the phone number to Dunkin Donuts. I’ll be damned if these people are going to get the best of me. I call and ask to speak to the manager. Irvin gets on the phone. He’s the manager and he remembers me because he sees me everyday. He knows that I’m polite and nice. He also donated $25 to my fund for the 2009 Alzheimer’s Memory Walk. He is very apologetic. He said that yes, after I left they tasted the “iced coffee” and someone put in the mix for iced lattes. How did this happen, I don’t know the logistics, all I know is that Irvin was so apologetic he offered me a coffee on him tomorrow. Smiling I thanked him, but felt compelled to tell him that his employee Dunkin Bitch was rather argumentative to me. I said I wasn’t trying to cause problems, but simply wanted my iced coffee. He apologized again and told me to come see him in the morning.
The next day I went to Dunkin Donuts. I walked in and my cute blonde friend was at the counter. She said, “Good morning! Iced coffee?”
I said, “Hello. Irvin told me to ask for him this morning.”
She said, “Oh, I know. He told me what happened. Would you like a muffin today, too?”
Fuck yeah I want a muffin! “Yes please!”
I could see Dunkin Bitch staring at me with a scowl on her face. Seriously, get over it. It’s not my fault you guys put latte mix in the iced coffee machine. Jesus! Why are you mad at me about it? I was perfectly polite when I asked you for another iced coffee. Why was she so pissed at me?
Fast forward to the last couple of weeks. Now that I’m back to my daily coffee stops, Dunkin Bitch has moved up on the food chain and has been meaner to me than ever. This chick hates me. She hates me “Sharon the commenter” style who just thinks I’m the biggest asshole on the face of the Earth. I wish there was a stronger word than “hates” because that’s how she feels about me.
I’ve tried to kill her with kindness.
I’ve tried to act nonchalant about the whole thing.
Then today I thought – You know what? It’s time for me to be a bitch to Dunkin Bitch. I’m sick of her attitude!
I actually thought I want it to be my goal in life to get her fired. She has a serious attitude problem. The cute blonde chick is doing other things now, so I’m stuck with Dunkin Bitch almost every day. I’ve seen her several times and had to deal with her pouty face despite my polite “please” and “thank yous” in addition to my “have a good day.” I mean, come on, what does this bitch want from me?
About a week ago when she was rude to me in the drive thru I was pissed. She gave me my receipt which clearly states, “How was your visit today?” I decided when I got to the office that I needed to shove it in her ass. I went on and said that my visit was bad because the female in the drive thru had an attitude problem.
Then this morning, same drill. As I’m handing her my $2.60 I don’t smile. I don’t say good morning. I don’t say please or thank you. I simply hand her my money.
Dunkin Bitch stares at me with her scowled face and goes to grab the bills out of my hand. As she grabs the $2.00 bills she is able to grab the .50 cents, but she drops the dime. I just looked at her. I’m not offering you another dime because you were grabbing the money out of my fingers and dropped the dime. Sorry. I guess your ass is putting in a dime for my coffee today. Thank you, Dunkin Bitch.
Dunkin Bitch looked at me and snapped, “Don’t worry about it!”
Damn straight, I thought.
I grabbed my coffee. Then I sat there and waited for my receipt. She handed me the receipt that said, “How was your visit today?” I snatched it from her hands and pulled away. I decided at that moment that that it WILL be my goal in life to get Dunkin Bitch fired. Is that too harsh? It is the holiday season after all….
Either way I got my receipt so I can tell them all about my visit today….and I decided to with this blog. Thank you Dunkin Bitch for giving me something to bitch about today!