Not an iced coffee, but an example of how much both my cat and I run on Dunkin'. And why it's weird to go in there as a Bills fan.
Sunday morning, I woke up earlier than usual, and decided to take advantage of this extra time and do laundry. I got ready, threw on my Buffalo Bills sweatshirt, Bills earrings and jeans, and beat the crowd to my local Allston laundromat by all of five minutes. I snapped up my three washers, started my laundry, and headed over to the Dunkin’ Donuts across the street. This is the DD’s where one of the employee’s routinely refers to me as “Ms. Cinna-mina-mon”, after the morning I was more dead to the world than usual and couldn’t say cinnamon to save my life. (Because I live on a small cinnamon iced coffee with cream and sugar. If this is not drank in the morning, than my day will be largely unsuccessful.)
Being 8am on a Sunday morning in Allston, Massachusetts (aka college party central of America), my usual swamped Dunkin’ Donuts was dead. One person in front of me getting a Coolata, one person at the doggie window getting something equally as complicated, so my Bills clad self waiting patiently in line, ready to order my iced cinnamon when it was my turn.
Someone else entered the Dunkin’ Donuts and got in line next to me. He cleared his throat and then stifled a laugh. I snuck a glance. This young man was wearing a new but fashionably antique-y looking Pat-the-Patriot-sporting New England Patriots sweatshirt.
First off, he called ESPN “dumb.” Oh Steve, for all of your smarts, you can sure put your foot in your mouth sometimes. Like the time you called out Phil Simms on national television. I despise Simms as well, and think he was wicked overrated as a quarterback (just like his son), but I’d never call him out on it on national television.