Closed

Dear Dunkin' Donuts in Rockefeller Center,

Thanks for leaving me high and dry here today. Super. No really, I appreciate it.

NO, IT'S SARCASM, MORON.

I exited the turnstile from the subway today, change jingling in pocket, eager to get the same cup of coffee that I've had every day for what feels like a century now. I know I probably started this habit voluntarily at some point, but damnit if some of this isn't on you. And today, just like any other day, I wandered over to pick up my daily usual. Medium coffee, milk. I looked up slowly and -- to my absolute disbelief -- the lights were dark. I quickly did a recount in my head. It's a weekday right? Yes, I think so. Yeah, no, it has to be. Look at this crowd. My next thought is immediately "terror threat." Or a shooting. Something. Anything. I needed an explanation. I stumbled towards the storefront glass trying to align myself with reality. And then I saw them. Paper signs. Dozens maybe. Pasted to the front of the store. And in big letters: "NOTICE."

Notice? WTF? I approach to more closely inspect and learn that the store is closed until further notice by the department of health because your PERMIT RAN OUT? SERIOUSLY?!! Talk about the dog eating your homework. You know the old saying "who's minding the store?" LITERALLY. WHO IS MINDING THIS STORE? THE MANAGER? If he were there, I would have asked to speak with him.

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO, DUNKIN DONUTS MANAGER? How do you expect me to operate today? Do you want me to just sit here and stare at my keyboard until the whistle blows? Am I supposed to walk across the hall to pick up some of that sludge they're pouring over at the Starbucks? Oh, don't get all defensive with me about it. Own up, and accept some responsibility here. It's the least you can do.

America runs on Dunkin' huh? That's all you got? Well, thanks for officially sinking America. We survived eight years of Bush, and yet this is how we go out...