I love food the most when it’s not food. When my brother was little, there was a string of years when he wanted 7-Eleven for his birthday. I usually got a hot dog. And the jalapeno and cream cheese roller grill item, a sort of trashier, fattier taquito. And a bag of chips (any flavor I wanted!) and a Slurpee (any flavors I wanted!) and a candy bar. Then, we would eat in the parking lot. It was a brilliant choice: everyone got to choose exactly what they wanted, and we could pretty much always afford it. Even the bingeiest 7-Eleven trip had a very reasonable budget compared to my birthday meal. My September birthday almost always falls within Endless Shrimp Fest at Red Lobster.
Of course, Red Lobster and 7-Eleven were out of the way, once-a-year trips for our family. But my preference for gas station food and all-you-can-but-definitely-shouldn’t-eat seafood remains. I love Quik Trip hot dogs (not available on the east coast) and I love Golden Corral (difficult to find) and I love Denny’s. But I don’t have any of these near me. What I have is Dunkin’.
My apartment is approximately 1/6 of a mile from the nearest Dunkin’ location. The man I’m seeing has called it “the worst Dunkin’ in the world.” There is another, ostensibly better Dunkin’ in my neighborhood. The app tells me it is only 1/3 of a mile from my apartment, and that is wayyyyy too far, so I never go there. A couple of times, I tried to do the “healthy” thing and order at the far-away Dunkin’ so I could have a nice walk. Both times, I arrived only to discover I had inadvertently reverted my in-app location to the Dunkin’ by my apartment.
I only ever order off the Dunkin’ app. In part, this is because I want those sweet sweet rewards points, but it’s also because the employees never get any part of my order right. This is not due to a language barrier. For some reason, my Dunkin’ plays Christian rock 24/7 at the loudest possible volume. It is impossible to hear the words “skim milk” or “flavor swirl” over the Nickelback knockoffs praising our lord Jesus Christ.
My Dunkin’ is consistently out of menu items; unfortunately, there is no clear logic I can apply in order to guess what they will lack or when. The store often receives new syrup flavors and seasonal donuts before everyone else. But that means they run out of those things far before they’re meant to. It’s a good thing I went home for Christmas, because the peppermint lattes were already being swapped for Valentine’s flavors by December 15th.
My Dunkin’ also has a Baskin-Robbins in it. I rarely order ice cream, but I can confirm the Baskin-Robbins is governed by chaos.
I would not label my Dunkin’ the “worst Dunkin’ in the world” because their errors often work out in my favor. Not always! But frequently. And, when an error is detrimental to me, I don’t care. I paid $2 for an indiscriminate carbohydrate! Why would I complain?
Memorable occasions when my Dunkin’ messed up an order
Throughout late January and early February, I attempted to secure a Brownie Batter Donut, a seasonal flavor. But my Dunkin’ was always out. I would place the order in-app, then walk into the store, and whoever was working would let me choose a different donut as a replacement. The manager, who likes me, would always give me two of my consolation donut.
I have also bartered these replacements: a croissant and a bag of Snackin’ Bacon when they were out of Croissant Stuffers; a normal bagel when they were out of bagel bites; a cheddar Bagel Twist when they were out of normal bagels; an iced Signature Latte when they briefly discontinued Frozen Coffee.
No one at this Dunkin’ pays any attention to cup size1, to mixed results. Sometimes, I order a $2 medium cold brew, and I receive a large. Sometimes, I order a $1 medium hot coffee, and I receive a small.
I ordered a large iced coffee, a French vanilla flavor swirl, whole milk. I received a Cake Batter Signature Latte.
I ordered a medium Frozen Coffee. I received the largest-size cup, full of Frozen Coffee, plus whipped cream, plus Cookie Butter crumbs.
I ordered avocado toast with bacon. A new employee made my order, and instead of using the bacon bits that normally go on the toast, she prepared an entire sleeve of Snackin’ Bacon and placed it on the toast.
I ordered the avocado toast with roasted tomatoes and bacon. Instead, I received a bacon avocado grilled cheese, which was a sandwich, with two slices of bed. However, neither slice of bread was grilled or toasted. I converted this into two separate servings of avocado toast.
I ordered avocado toast with roasted tomatoes. They were out of avocado, so they used pesto instead. They still added the Everything Bagel seasoning.
Because I take advantage of the rewards program – and I mean, I really take advantage2 – my monthly Dunkin' budget isn't exorbitant. Usually, when I go, it's an excuse to leave the house, to wave at my neighbors, to surround myself with the sounds of pop praise and the smell of dark roast. For all the store's faults, the only time I've ordered something inedible, it was a bad batch of $2 iced coffee. Still, I was back the next day. I'd wager that 90 percent of the time, I go to Bad Dunkin' because I like it. That other 10 percent, though, is just because I'm stubborn.
Previously, I’ve blogged about my crummy apartment. I love my apartment, with its weird paint colors and hideous French doors. It’s inexpensive, it’s big, and it has a chandelier. I love my horrible Dunkin’ for many of the same reasons. It is a convenient place for me to buy artificial food and inexpensive coffee. Everyone who works there is very friendly and errs on the side of generosity. They have never once tried to sell me a “premium” version of anything, which is good, because I want a vat of not-nice coffee. I want seven hashbrowns, in a paper sleeve, and I want one of them to be really burnt. I want a seasonal novelty donut, and when they don’t have it, I would like two jelly donuts, please. Why would I give up on something I expect so little from?
In January, I placed an in-app order for an iced coffee, with two pumps of the toffee butter flavor swirl. When I arrived, and my coffee wasn’t waiting on the pickup counter, I assumed they were out of the toffee butter syrup.
But then the manager appeared and flagged me down. He was carrying a big pump bottle. “We just got the new Brownie Batter flavor swirl in, and when I saw your name on the order, I decided to wait to make your coffee in case you wanted to try it,” he said. Even over the blaring Christian music, I could hear the excitement in his voice. I got excited, too, and I watched him gently peel the plastic seals off the bottle of flavoring, set up the pump alongside caramel and vanilla and mocha. The Brownie Batter coffees weren’t even posted on the menu yet. He made my coffee himself, added six pumps – six! – of the brand-new syrup. We stood across the counter from each other as I tried it.
“It’s good,” I smiled. “I like this flavor. Thank you.” The manager nodded and smiled and went back to work, but first, he threw away my mobile order ticket. He had tucked it out of the way, behind the cash register. He knew I was coming, 1/6 of a mile in the January cold, to see how Dunkin’ might surprise me today.
Like a Victoria’s Secret employee who’s bad at her job! HEYOHHHH!
When is the last time I paid for a large hot coffee or an order of hashbrowns? Maybe…October?