Dunkin’ Dillhole

I don’t mind standing in lines.  Most of the time, it’s a choice between something you want or not getting it.  In this case, my object of need was caffeine provided by my favorite coffee purveyor. 

The idea of standing in line implies some degree of impatience, and the jangling nerves of low caffeine levels make it worse.  On this particular day, those two elements had aligned, and added the Dunkin’ Dillhole.

The Dillhole is a classic line dick, like the guy at Chipotle who wants samples before he decides.  Or the twit who waits until he’s at the McCashRegister to decide which stack of grease he wants.  The Dunkin’ Dillhole took it a step farther.  The Dillhole needed everyone else (about 30 foot-tapping people) to notice, get angry and twitch.

The first Dillhole Move was a group donut order for the office.  Forget that the Dillhole had no idea what everyone wanted, and forget that this particular Dillhole did not need to even breathe donut smell.  The Dillhole had to query the girl at the counter about the ingredients in each and every donut.  “Is there chocolate in that?”  “Does this have peanuts?”  One dozen unique donuts later, we move on.

The second Dillhole Move was a finicky personal coffee order.  It was a large, involved a specific amount of cream, and a particular form of sweetener that didn’t rhyme with ‘sugar.’  The attendant didn’t speak perfect English, so this order had to be reinforced three times, with detailed explanations.  By now, we line-standers are vibrating and frowning.

The counter girl produced the coffee, at which point the Dillhole whips out her Dunkin’ Dillhole personal plastic mug.  The girl should have known, apparently, that Dillhole wanted this filled, not the Styrofoam cup.  And no, we don’t want Styrofoam residue, so go back to the detailed explanation and start over.  No ‘please’ for the poor girl, because clearly her function is to take shit from Dillhole, and she should have known.  We in line are contemplating violence.

The Dillhole then has to recheck the coffee order to verify before paying.  The Dillhole doesn’t take a sip until the box of donuts is handed over, and then we all relax and prepare to get our caffeine fix.  No such luck.

Dillhole returns, cuts straight to the counter, and complains that there’s coffee on the outside of the Dillhole Plastic Mug.  The disrespected counter girl paused the process of the next paying customer’s order to clean and return it.  Durning this, Dillhole eyes each of us with a look that you get from your two year old – a look that says, “I know exactly what I’m doing, and I enjoy owning all you bitches.”  Dillhole then moved off.  Again, we relax.  For about ten seconds.

Only two more orders are done and Dillhole cuts back for the second time.  The counter girl looks close to tears.  The sweetener and cream ratio is all wrong.  Dillhole wears a look of infinite put-upon-ness during this process.  I visualize ways of killing the Dillhole.  I wonder what the limits are on ‘making a scene’ in the Pentagon.

When my turn at the counter came, it’s the poor girl who endured Dillhole.  I say to her, “I’m really sorry about that,” and also, “Medium, cream only – please.”  I get a smile, hand over my two dollars, and walk away.

Then I noticed she’d made me a large.  The road to hell may be paved with the crushed skulls of coffe shop dillholes, but Karma apparently rewards those who spare Dillhole lives.

32 Responses to “Dunkin’ Dillhole”

  1. That poor girl! There’s nothing worse than dealing with someone who’s determined to remain unsatisfied. I bet that chick is a blast in the sack.

  2. Good gods, I had a photo somewheres that shows this long line at the local Starbucks. I’m like ‘Really?’

  3. As someone who worked in the food industry all through high school and part of college I can say that there should be a special place in hell for assholes like that. There’s no need to be rude and condescending, not in a situation like that. Bless you for being nice to her, you almost certainly salvaged her day. The bigger coffee is just a total bonus.

  4. Randstein Says:

    Dillholes are too absorbed in being the best Dillhole they can be to realize screwin’ with someone that is fixing them something to eat or drink can result in extra bio produced ingredients that aren’t FDA approved.

  5. You have much tolerance, O patient one. I’m afraid, if I were that low on caffeine, they’d have had to plan his funeral after the second donut… He’d never have made it to the coffee order at all, thus saving the lives of many future Dillholes who would never be born….

    I was a chef, waiter, bartender, barista, etc. for a lot of my life; the girl at the counter just needed some training in how to deal with buttheads like that…. but, sometimes, bystanders just gotta do what they gotta do…

    gigoid, the dubious

  6. Actually you can get real coffee at Starbucks, you just have to ask for the strength and size of caffeine you want…

  7. That poor girl. I’ll just call it an asshole, despite your rantionary. Pity the people who have to live with it. DD is 3 after Timmys and Krispy Kreme. Really any caffeine will do.

  8. Too bad you can’t carry the M9 into the Playpen. The line would’ve got shorter, and I’ll bet no-one would have seen a thing. 🙄

  9. Can they ban customers without getting sued? (How hard was it to keep from slapping on a posti-it note saying :”Kick me” on that guy?)

  10. Why in the world do some people think they can treat people “they” consider lower in rank than themselves like dirt?
    Having worked as an Admin Asst. for many years, I was feeling kind of sympathetic with the Dillhole, knowing I had been sent on this kind of mission many, many, many times myself. But when you got to the part about her own coffee, I lost all sympathy.

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