We almost never patronize Dunkin Donuts, but as we pulled out at 6am yesterday morning, we hit the drive-thru for coffee.
“Good morning, what can I get for you today?” chirped a voice over the speaker.
“Uh…one large black coffee, and a small hot chocolate.”
“Will that be all?”
Do we want a donut? We never get donuts. Sure, why not.
“We’ll get a donut.”
“What would you like?”
“How about toasted coconut?”
“No, toasted coconut.”
“We don’t have toasted coconut.”
“Okay, uh…” more discussion… “How about cinnamon sugar?”
“We don’t have cinnamon sugar.”
“Well what do you have?”
Huge list of gloppy, frosted, cream-filled, sprinkled, grossness.
“We’ll just get a glazed stick, I guess.”
When we pulled around to the pickup window, a young woman handed us our drinks and donut bag. She addressed us kindly, patiently solicitous, like maybe she thought we were old or something.
“Here you go.” Big smile. “and I just want to let you guys know that our lobby is now open, so next time if you’re having trouble, you can come inside and see what we have.”
Oh my god. She thinks we are doddering old fogies.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 325: 199 words, TOTAL = 52,907; 7,093 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is a writer and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband and dogs, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her grown children and their multi-species families.