The Dunkin Donuts on Summer Street is hopeless

[spatch]

ME: I would like a Turbo Ice¹ Coffee, please.
COUNTERPERSON: Milk and sugar?
ME: Yes.
COUNTERPERSON: Here.
ME: Thank you. Sip, sip, sip.
COFFEE: HELLO I TASTE LIKE BLUEBERRIES
ME: This is disgusting.
COFFEE: TAKE PITY ON MY PATHETIC EXISTENCE, I DID NOT ASK MY CREATOR TO TASTE LIKE BLUEBERRIES
ME: Hello? I'm sorry, I wanted a Turbo Ice, and this tastes like blueberries.
COUNTERPERSON, UNHAPPY THAT HER PEACEFUL REVERIE HAS BEEN BROKEN BY YET ANOTHER CUSTOMER: You wanted blueberry?
ME: No, I don't want blueberry, I wanted a Turbo Ice. The one with the espresso in it.
COUNTERPERSON, WHO HAS EVERY RIGHT TO DOUBT A CUSTOMER'S CONCERN OVER THE BEVERAGE THEY RECEIVED BECAUSE EVERYBODY IN THE HUMAN RACE ARE LIARS WHO EXIST SOLELY TO MAKE YOUR LIFE ANNOYING: Sniff, sniff. There's no blueberry in here.
ME: Trust me, there's blueberry in it.
COUNTERPERSON, BURDENED BY THE TERRIBLE IMPOSITION PLACED UPON HER BY A CUSTOMER WHO DARES QUESTION THE FLAVOR OF HIS BEVERAGE: Sigh
ME: Could I please have the coffee with the espresso in it? No blueberry?
COUNTERPERSON, WHOSE EYES HAVE ROLLED OUT OF HER HEAD AND ARE NOW SOMEWHERE UNDER THE COUNTER, VIOLATING OSHA GUIDELINES: Milk and sugar?
ME: Yes, please.
COUNTERPERSON, WHO IS TOO BUSY DAYDREAMING ABOUT LEAVING WORK EARLY TO GO KICK PUPPIES OR SOMETHING TO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE: Here.
ME: Thank you. Sip, sip, sip.
COFFEE: WELCOME TO THE DUNKIN ISLANDS, MON
ME: This tastes like someone put suntan lotion in my coffee.
COFFEE: I AN I BE TASTIN OF COCONUT GOODNESS ALONG WIT THE CAFFEINE YOU BE CRAVIN
COUNTERPERSON, WHO OBVIOUSLY IS JUST JABBING AT RANDOM BUTTONS ON THE FLAVOR MACHINE: What now?
ME: Can I speak with your manager, please?
COUNTERPERSON, BLINKING IN DISBELIEF THAT SOMEONE MIGHT DARE TO BE DISSATISFIED WITH THE STELLAR LEVEL OF CUSTOMER SERVICE SO ADROITLY GIVEN AT THIS PARAGON OF EXCELLENCE THAT IS THE DUNKIN DONUTS ON SUMMER STREET IN BOSTON: Now why you wanna do that?!

I eventually did get my coffee. And I didn't even hear any hocking sounds from behind the flavor machine.

1. The "Turbo Ice" is the new name Dunkin Donuts has given to "an iced coffee with an espresso shot please." I dunno. Isn't it a Gatorade flavor? Might explain the incessant need to put fruit flavors in it for me.

Comments

[cheezdanish.livejournal.com]

Oh my. Flavored coffees are of the devil. Poor you.

[wednesday]

Oh, god. I actually tried to drink some of that blueberry shite while I was over. What an error in judgement that was.

Then I tried to make it better by adding Splenda. That was when it was decided that it was Done.

[scholargipsy.livejournal.com]

This is the funniest thing I've read in about forever, and it came at just the right time. Thanks.

[eeka13.livejournal.com]

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG HEE

[tikva.livejournal.com]

Just don't go to the one on Congress Street. I couldn't see the menu or anything, and they didn't have enough clue to help me read it, even when I asked.

[spatch]

Damn, I was kind of hoping to go there instead. It's only a block away from the Summer Street one.

Is it just so hard to press the "PUT ESPRASOO FLAVOR HEER" button instead of the "PUT BLOOBARY FLAVSRS HERRE" button?

[liza.livejournal.com]

The Congress St. one is hopeless.

There is no good coffee in Fort Point at all.

[spatch]

Alas, I am learning this lesson the Very Hard Way.

[nathanjw]

When my coffee starts talking to me I usually take that as a sign to cut back.

[moxie-fawn.livejournal.com]

Dude, generally speaking, I try not to judge people by their appearance, but when it comes to coffee, if you're younger or older than a certain age, and if you dress a certain way, I'm not going to request that you prepare me a drink unless I'm desperate for caffiene. Good baristas just all seem to have a certain look about them.

[spatch]

Truth be told, I wouldn't call anybody who works at Dunkin Donuts a barista. That imparts a sort of coffeehouse sheen upon them, and DD most definitely is not a coffeehouse. It is, however, a place to get reasonably decent coffee cheap.

There are some good Dunkins folks, I know. I visited the shop at the Wellington station almost every day when I worked in Medford and I got to know the 3 usual employees there very well. We always chatted nicely, they got my orders right, and eventually started that "The usual, eh? Here it is! We saw you coming" bit that really makes you feel like a regular. I don't see anybody at the DD on Summer Street caring enough to even begin to try that. Hell, eye contact is difficult over there.

[eeka13.livejournal.com]

This is why I avoid Dunkies. ;o)

[markm.livejournal.com]

I'm partial to their mocha iced latte myself, because mmm chocolate. Hey, I remember reading somewhere on the web that chocolate is good for you!

[bostonista.livejournal.com]

That's IT. I am so adding you.

[spatch]

Pleasedtameetcha!

[(Anonymous)]

This is why I usually get my coffee from Angela at Contrada's on Hanover Street. She knows what I usually want, and also understand what I mean if I say something like "less sugar than usual today, please".

--Ron

[out-2-lunch.livejournal.com]

I saw a link to this on the Universal Hub blog...and that "Hello I taste like blueberries" thing made me laugh so hard right here at my desk at work :-) My coworkers might think I'm nuts. Totally made my day.

[pushupstairs.livejournal.com]

WELCOME TO THE DUNKIN ISLANDS, MON

perfect.

[(Anonymous)]

Believe me, the people at Dunkin Donuts don't make enough money to cater to your yuppie, self-important selves. Oh goodness, we should remember your face and drink order despite the fact that the CUSTOMERS treat the workers like they're ignorant and beneath them. Not a single "regular" customer who came into Dunkin while I worked there every smiled or showed any sign of recognition to the fact that I remembered them. In fact some people were amazed that I remembered the drink order they got every Saturday morning because they had no idea I had served them for months in a row. Enough of that, and complaining about incorrect drink orders and drinks that weren't made like "Starbucks" was enough to make me dread customers. To the replier who said "That is why I don't go to Dunkin:)" Thank God you don't. You get what you pay for. If you want to pay a $1.65 for a medium coffee, you're gonna get something that involves pushing buttons and won't be made to your specifications. If you want espresso, go to Starbucks or some other yuppie coffee shop and leave Dunkin to the "medium regular" blue-collar people who actually act like human beings and not stuck up snobs.

[spatch]

The funny thing was, that Turbo Ice drink thing was something that was made just by pushing a button. It wasn't even real espresso, it was highly-caffeinated espresso flavoring syrup or something. All the flavored coffees came from the same machine, so putting a flavor in was just a matter of putting a cup under the spigot and pressing the right button. Not rocket science, and not something you'd go to Starbucks for. I don't go to Starbucks. I go to Dunkies. I like a lodge reglah and sometimes I like a reglah with one of them flavah shots,

I've worked retail and food service, too, and I had enough sense, even as embittered as I could get, to handle a wrong order correctly. To take back what the customer gave and say "I'm sorry, I'll get you a new one. What was it you wanted?" Not to sniff the order and argue and say "It doesn't smell like that." Not to heave a sigh and haul off and get the order incorrect yet again.

Because even if I hated the customer and I hated his ass face and I thought they were all bastard people, getting him what he wanted got him out of my face quicker. No reason to roll my eyes and sigh. Not to his face, anyway.

I asked politely to have the correct drink and I was rebuffed and given the wrong drink again, and then sassed at when I asked to speak with the manager.

Compare that to the people at the Wellington stop Dunkin Donuts, who I talked to every day for two years en route to a job in Wellington Circle. Even if there was a like you always got a cheery good morning from whoever was behind the counter and if they saw a regular coming they'd begin to make the drink. I gave out tips, we chatted a bit, I learned a little bit about their kids, and everything was cool. This coming from a little place that served crowds of people coming directly off Orange Line trains, like handling a rush every three minutes or so.

I did notice a sign on the Summer Street location that said politely not to tip. That may be a partial reason towards the general sense of apathy and incompetence. Life was better when you were bringing in special non-taxable income.