Thursday, July 30, 2009

Intervention

My name is KC, and I'm a DK-holic.

[Insert smattering of applause from other addicts here.]

I moved back to Massachusetts from California in 2006. When I left Boston two decades ago, every block had at least one liquor store. Upon my return, the liquor stores are still in place -- and their new neighbors are Dunkin' Donuts. What happened while I was out-of-state? How did "The World Runs on Dunkin'" become a reality?

After years of daily research, I'm convinced the secret ingredient in Dunkin' coffee and donuts is -- well, crack. Why else would anyone possibly need a fix right before getting on an airplane? Or, going into the RMV? Or -- shopping for real food at Stop 'N Shop?

Dunkin' Donuts coffee is awful. Most of us use "getting coffee" as an excuse to buy the other junk with injected-berry-flavored-goo, or melted cheese. Have you ever checked out the nutritional value on anything served up at DK? Let me save you the three seconds it would take to look up online. There is absolutely nothing, not a single item, at DK which is good to put inside your body. The food ingredient list should read one word: crap. The coffee ingredient list should read: crap with caffeine.

(Those of you who still insist DK coffee is great -- are simply in denial. It's not your fault; denial is part of recovery. We'll keep you in our prayers.)

Back to the Intervention. I knew my addiction was real when I decided to quit DK cold turkey. One day at a time, as they say... and I actually felt a little buzz of victory every time I passed a DK and didn't stop in for my fix.

I couldn't find a support group. So, I decided to start one of my own. I know you're out there. I know I'm not alone ordering a coffee to disguise what I really want: a glazed donut. The coffee sits in its carbon bootprint of a Styrofoam cup and grows cold while I polish off the donut.

Think you're not an addict? Here is a short list of symptoms:

1. You lower your voice at the drive-up window hoping the people in the car behind you won't hear your order.

2. You lie about buying donuts or other crap for the kids.

3. You opt for the #1 large coffee with two donuts because it's a good value.

4. You justify weight gain as stress-related. In this economy, it's a solid excuse.

5. You use the drive-thru only because you're too embarrassed to place your order inside at the counter. [In an emergency, when no drive-thru is available, and you are forced inside the shop, you use Symptom #2 when placing your order.]

6. You eat whatever DK junk food you've ordered by yourself, out of the view of witnesses, and later pretend you only ordered coffee.

7. You find a way to justify the $20 - $30 + per week you're spending. Do the math; what else could you possibly do with an extra $120 a month [that's $1,440 a YEAR!] in your pocket?

8. You travel out of the area and find yourself thinking about DK... How do these backwoods people in other countries survive? My God... no wonder the rest of the world doesn't like us. Mystery solved: the rest of the world has DK envy.

9. You give DK gift cards -- because let's be honest -- as long as you're at the counter, you can order a donut. Plus, there's the added bonus of nurturing another DK addict, and you don't feel alone in your crap food hell.

10. You're disappointed when someone brings grocery-store-made donuts into the coffee break room. A true DK addict won't even eat another brand of donut; they don't taste the same... Not because DK donuts are so good, but because [remember our earlier lesson] the secret ingredient of crack is missing.

This list of symptoms is in no way complete. I await additions from my fellow addicts.

This blog is for you, my DK addicted companions. We can kick this habit. During the last 60 days of being DK-free I magically shed 15 lbs, and saved $212.

But, I'll be honest... I miss DK. I miss the smell... the anticipation... but not the guilt.

Join me. I need your support, and hereby promise to support you back. :-)

Peace out,
KC