This girl is funny...not skinny.

This girl is funny...not skinny.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

But...you do sell donuts here, right?

Good morning!

So Peaches and her friends are having a rummage sale this weekend.  For those of you not familiar with the concept of the rummage/garage/yard sale, this is where people take all the rubbish out of their house, clothes, books, dishes, things they just don't want anymore, and instead of sending them to Goodwill or the Salvation army or something, they spread the stuff out on the lawn or in the garage and try selling it to passersby.  Here in Wisconsin, the first rummage sale sighting is as much an announcement of spring as the first robin sighting.

Anyway, so the girls filled my house with all sorts of stuff this week (think "on this episode of "Hoarders"...) and now it's all on my front lawn.  To celebrate the moving if the crap, I told the girls I'd get them some donuts.  Typically I get them from Kwik Trip.  I love  Kwik Trip donuts.  But I thought I'd streamline my morning and just hit the drive through at the Dunkin Donuts.  

Me...at the best donut place in the Midwest.
I haven't been to the Dunkin Donuts often.  Again, I typically go to Kwik Trip for my donut needs and honestly, since eating a whisky glazed bacon apple fritter at Glam Doll donuts a couple weeks ago, I'm ruined for donuts made by anyone not mega pierced and tattooed.  Yeah, I need to go back to Minneapolis RIGHT NOW!

Anyway so I get in the Cube. (I'm really starting to love this car.)  And I head on out to Dunkin Donuts.
The Cube...my donut getter.

Once there it's obvious that the drive through isn't happening.  There are about seven cars in line.  And if I've learned anything about waiting in line at a drive through it's that it'll take less time just getting out of the car and walking into the store.

So that's what I did.

But looking at the line which, once I joined it, actually left the building, I wondered if that was the case this time.

I realized the problem immediately.  They had no one dedicated to the cash register...and everyone was tripping over each other making things.  See, this is what happens when a donut place diversifies.  At Dunkin you can now get bagels and breakfast sandwiches and coffee drinks that all take ten minutes to make.  And the four people working were name able to keep up with the demand.  So here we all were, waiting. ("Time to wait for the donuts.")


After a healthy wait, one in which I considered leaving the line and going to Kwik Trip, (and why didn't I?  Because I would never have had this story) it was finally my turn.

"I would like two dozen assorted donuts, please.  But please be sure I have at least three vanilla frosted long johns."  (Peaches make a request)

The young gentleman behind the cash register looked as if I'd just whipped a gun out and suggested he empty the cash register. (I was, in fact, holding my debit card, ready for a quick transaction.)  He stopped an even younger looking blonder girl and asked her a question.

She turned terrified eyes to me.  "Did you place the order?"  She asked in a tremulous tone.

What the what?  I've ordered donuts before. I've ordered donuts at this place before.  Since when is a two dozen donut order requesting three long johns a problem?

"I'm placing an order," I say in my teacher voice.  I was hungry and tired from waiting in line.  I wasn't messing around. I went right to the teacher voice.  The next stop is angry mom voice.

"But someone called before..."  The blonde is almost in tears.

At this point, a middle aged fluffy girl walks up to the other cash register.  She looks at me, then she looks at the guy and at the girl I've now named "Puddles" because she's literally got tears in her eyes.  The woman looks at me again and says, "No, she came in, walked up to the register, and placed an order. Now go get her donuts!"

I've never wanted to hug a woman more in my life.

For the record, since I'm sort of in training for a 5K this year, I only had one donut.  And it didn't taste very good, so the calories don't count.

No, they don't.


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