Now that there’s approximately a Dunkin’ Donuts every two miles around here, the talent pool for competent counter help is pretty thin. I pulled in to get a quick cup of coffee. It was the middle of the afternoon so it should have been fast and painless. Should have been, there was a long line maybe ten or twelve people and a panicky old woman behind the counter not serving anyone. Now, I’m not insensitive about old people having to work, it’s sad and it sucks and I know if I live long enough I’m gonna be one of them. But for fucks sake, serve the goddamned coffee. A woman came in and steamed to the front of the line to find out why her child hadn’t come out with the coffee she was supposed to get. The old woman still not serving anyone started to complain loudly. “He’s out back washing tables, he should have come back when he saw the parking lot fill up!” she continued “yeah, I’m getting to your coffee, that damn kid is outside, he should be in here, in here!” The first coffees are finally served and then the kid came in. He’s skinny, sullen and has a bunch of bad tattoos. It’s clear that he’s in charge and not digging on working with the panicky old woman, they glared at each other and started to slowly serve the customers. Ten minutes after I walked in I gave my order to the old woman. “small coffee, milk and sugar please” “cream?” “no, milk. “right, cream.” “no, milk” “(heavy sigh) milk AND sugar” “yes” “(heavy sigh) anything else?” “yes, a sour cream donut please” “(heavy sigh)”. My parents used to have thermos and made coffee at home. I think they were on to something.