Monday, February 14, 2011

Dunkin' Donuts Grand Opening!

So a Dunkin' Donuts just opened up in my neck of the woods. Almost literally, a few hundred feet away from where I'm at. My life is awesome, you can suck it and die.

The week after it's doors opened, you were offered a free, medium coffee per your request. Hot or iced, it didn't matter. The lines were so long you'd think everyone was waiting to watch a dinosaur egg hatch. The place was madness! Streamers flapping in the wind, massive blow-up coffee cups swaying and and an infinite line of addicts just waiting to get nasty with a hot cup of joe. I was definitely one of those nasty people, and through this entire debacle, managed to walk away with over eight free cups of coffee. I feel I did a good thing there.

That week is gone, but the memory is still fresh. I feel like I am this Dunkin' Donuts. After being one of the first to enter this orange and pink beauty, I feel like I need it to be mine. I want it to be mine. I want it to be my "Cheers," I want to enter without worry, I want them to smile and be glad I've arrived, I want them to know my name but never really use it, 'cause that could get awkward and weird.

So, confession time...

Behind all the celebrating and dancing in the streets, there's a guilt I harbor deep within. Before it bloomed into the beautiful and magic donut shop it is today, it was once a different entity entirely. Well, not really.

It was another donut shop. It's current location used to be occupied by a place called "Cherubini's," and they sold coffee and donuts. It had a warm atmosphere and a surprisingly decent menu. I used to go there a lot, actually, strictly out of it being super close and teeming with caffeine and sugar, all necessary to keep me alive. The service was slow, the owner made it awkward by shaking hands and striking up conversation with anyone who accidently glanced his way, but it was alright. It had a certain charm, it contained a kind of flair you don't usually find in a lot of food chains and big restaraunts. Yes, what I'm trying to say here is that the place was locally owned and operated, AND I DAMNED IT TO HELL.

Every time I stepped in there, I always wished it was a Dunkin' Donuts. Truly, I supported it's cause, because owning and operating a coffee spot would be really cool, but it kinda just sucked. The place had a cool, Italian-villa kinda look to it, but it didn't quite save it from never having enough donuts to serve the general public. Seriously, who owns a donut shop and runs outta donuts? Yeah, global, conglomerate coffee joints are just sometimes better, I guess.

So I'm here! I'm in!

Over the years, me and Dunkin' have had a sinful affair. I love it and it loves me back. It's never bad and it's always under two bucks, assuming you don't go buck wild and order the extra-large. If you're that far deep, you might as well order a few Bear Claws while you're at it. Hell, start looking for a motorized scooter to carry you around, too, you lazy bitch.

I bought a medium coffee.

Beautiful. The color scheme, the potted plant to keep me company, what can be better?

Whenever we're on tour, you can always find me out searching for a cup of coffee. I'd prefer the warmth and flavor of a good ol' Dunkin', but gas stations and taco stands will work just fine. As long as it exists, it will be in my mouth. If we were mega-rich and famous enough to have a rider at shows, I'd say forget the bottles of Cristal and color-coordinated bowl of M&M's. I'd demand nothing more than a pot of Folger's brew and a toilet. The toilet doesn't have to be clean or fancy, in fact, it doesn't even have to be a toilet. A locked room with a bucket and some crumpled up newspaper would work well enough for me. Just somewhere I can sit and relax, chill out and just be. The pain and grief of traveling all over the world is minisculed by the thought of a shitty shitter with no door, no toilet paper or a line of dudes pounding on the walls demanding you hurry the fuck up.

Add the stress and nerves of a show with a cup of're damn right I want a bathroom.

Like I said, it really was a party. Too bad I missed my chance to photograph the giant coffee cup the size of a building. It really was spectacular, rivaling the best inflatable gorillas you've ever seen.

Since it's grand opening, I've only been back twice. Once to take these photos and the other to waste some time. I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make, but it sounded like a fantastic closer to end with.

Anyway, Dunkin' is great -- drink it up!


  1. Wow! Somehow you managed to make grabbing a coffee at Dunkin seem...exciting! Seriously, I felt I was missing out on a mega-event! I feel all dead inside because all I have is the stuff my boss buys us here at work.

  2. Damn! I can't believe I waste my hard-earned money on Starbucks and McDonald's McLatte's or whatever they call them in an effort to sound fancy. 2 bucks?? I need a Dunkin Donuts in my!!

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  4. Bobby,

    I've been reading your blog for a few weeks, and I have a serious question for you:

    In your travels, have you ever NOT found a toilet covered in shit?

    Thank God you are too young to have been in the bathrooms at CBGB. They would have given you a massive stroke or made you swear off going to the bathroom altogether.

  5. I second the covered in shit question. Every week now I check in, and laugh, just in case your phobia-in-waiting has popped up again.

  6. Should we say 'pooped' up again instead?

  7. Seriously, being in a band has ruined certain aspects of my life. I sometimes prefer sleeping in a van, I can live off of PB&J if need be and going to the bathroom is now an absolute, insane event. Yikes.