Snow Day? More Like Hell Day

So. My big interview at a prominent sports mag was postponed today because of this bitch-assed Nor'easter smacking down on the East Coast. That meant I had, more or less, a free day. How did I spend this time? Yep, I went to Dunkin' Donuts to feed and surf the Net; interestingly, D'D seems to have penetrated Brooklyn like Starbucks did Manhattan. Well, perhaps that's not that interesting. Regardless, here are the lowlights from my afternoon down the Donuts....

[note: I'm into my 7th pint of Guinness at this, eh, juncture, so I can't be held accountable for how poorly written this slop is. Or how dull. I'm sure it sucks monkey testicles. But who can tell when you've got this many fucking beers in ya? Ya got a problem, ya write a letter to somebody. But don't bother me. Happy Valentine's Day, suckers!]

A big disgusting old guy comes in and tries to repair his umbrella, which is clearly in tatters and unrepairable. He eventually gives up, cursing the damn thing and throwing it at the counter. After this minor victory, he decides to stay for a cup of joe. Here's how he drinks: sluurrrrp, lip smack, [punctuated by] a hopelessly gruesome "ah!" happy noise. Repeat. And repeat. Same again. And again. You get the point. It's amazing how a such a small cup could actually be bottomless. I think he was fake drinking after a certain point (possibly unintentionally), which is really perverse. I hate old people.

After grandpa tits left, I was basically alone in the joint. I had a fine seat at the counter running along the front of the shop. Enter a huge fat woman. Of course I notice her as she enters--you couldn't miss this wheezing tub of lard. She heads up to order, and I'm able to forget about her. And then the next thing you know, this slob is slapping her massive ass RIGHT DOWN NEXT TO ME! Fuckballs! I mean, there are empty seats everywhere, but the fuck chooses to sit immediately next to me in what is really a very tight spot (especially for this blob). And her counter spot was dirty! Whoever had been sitting there earlier had left a muffin's worth of crumbs all over the damn place. Anyway, so I'm like, "hey, what's up?" I totally gave her the stink-eye. She mumbles something like "sorry," but she's already devouring a egg-and-sausage roll, so she might have said "so good!" That fat fuck. Yes, I immediately left. Before I got ate.

I returned about an hour later as I needed to do some more Web surfing. Luckily, la bimpa was gone. So were the crumbs. I bet she ate those, too, the hungry hungry bastard. Anyhoo, I'm there for like six minutes before these two yuppie Heights' mothers and their gaggle of preppy children enter. Also entering: chaos. These kids immediately go berseker, running amok: screaming, repeatedly opening and slamming the drinks coolers doors, whining for food--they basically just sucked ass. Did the fuck mothers do a goddam thing to get them under control? Fuck no! I could hear -- no feel -- the guy at the counter cursing these circumstances. Fair play to that poor bastard. For the next 30 minutes, these stupid, worthless "parents" go on and on about how special their annoying little brats are, all the while stuffing their fat little pie holes with donuts and chocolate milk. Yeah, that really helped matters. These fucks were all over the place. If only I owned a Taser. If only.

Finally, these bastard broods leave. Peace. For about 46 seconds. Then: school lets out. Enter about a squillion little fucking middle school punks. It was horrible. I mean, you just wanted to die. Who can enjoy their chocolate glazed when packs of local toughs are sacking the joint? The dude behind the counter nearly collapsed. Me too.

And that's really all I have to say about this afternoon. Other stuff happened. But you probably don't want to know about it. I mean, you really don't want to know about it. Still, Dunkin' Donuts is the shit.