Not me. Not yet, anyway! ROFL!!!

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

Normally I’m a big fan of Dunkin Donuts, 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-whats 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. It’s a line from that old show “Father Knows Best.” So if I had a wife, her name probably wouldn’t 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!

The reason I get up every morning.

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 darned, it was time for some revenge!

So I hand over what came to almost three 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 sixty 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.

It might not be fancy, but it's reliable transportation.

Of course, I could never go back there after that. In fact, 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!