The Dunkin Lady

So when I first moved into this beautiful apartment, I was pretty psyched that there was a Dunkin Donuts two seconds away. But it turns out they make really bad coffee. This is something I don't understand. How are there some shops that are so good, and others that are lousy? Don't they all have the same coffee? I don't know. And it's immaterial at this point. So I'll move along.

There's another DD in Swansea, MA that makes awesome coffee. Consequently I am there rather frequently of a morning (but not too frequently! don't want to get addicted! and yes, I'm adding this parenthetical comment to ease my guilt) - frequently enough that the cashier recognizes me now. I love that! And I love her.

She's an older lady than most who work at the establishment. I'd guess 50's, perhaps. She is heavily ringed and nail polished, and she calls me "darlin," "sweetie," "dear," and you get the point. The first couple of times I was taken aback. Instead of the "do you know who I am?" line, I wanted to give the "do you know how OLD I am?" line. I assumed she thought me about 15 to be using such titles. But now I love it every time:) So I drive away feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, ready for another day teaching. We're becoming fast friends.

The kicker was during the last Christmas season. I was heading through the drive-through, feeling a little blue as I recall (yes, it happens... I was kind of stressed out, I think), and I drove up to the window to receive my food, only to see a Christmas card come popping out of the window with the bag! "I just got a Christmas card from the Dunkin Donuts lady!" I reflected, totally amused with the fact that it was the only Christmas card I'd received (um, not that I really expect to receive any, since I never give any! Except to my church family, from whom I also receive cards. But that hadn't happened yet, you see. Oh my word, get out of these parentheses immediately!). It made my day. We are definitely becoming fast friends.

Long live the Dunkin Lady!