Dunkin Donuts | Teen Ink

Dunkin Donuts

May 13, 2008
By Anonymous

“Hello folks. Have I got a story for you! Oh my! I’ve forgotten my manners. My name is William Patrick Donut, but you can call me W.P. Hmmmm….. Now where was I? Oh yes, I remember now. I was going to tell ya’ll a story. Come, and let me take you back to the year nineteen-twenty.
Now, back in those days, things were a little bit different. Lordy, there wasn’t any TV or video games, no sir. The best entertainment back then was the radio. Still, people knew how to cook. Especially my grandmother’s cooking. You never tasted such fresh apple pie. My grandmother taught my ma how to make some mean fried chicken. Whew, she made some mighty fine fried chicken. Still, my absolute favorite food was donuts. My grand pappy taught ma how to make donuts; granny was never good at it.
My granpap’s name was Dunkin Donut. He was a funny little fellow, just like his name. Dunkin was a small, wiry man. He wore wire rimmed glasses and striped suspenders every day. Boy, he loved them suspenders. Hee hee. Dunkin always kept a red and white checked hankie in the back pocket of his pants. He always smelled like donuts and old spice cologne. Dunkin and his wife, Eliza Jane, had one child, named Sammy and another was on the way.
Dunkin and his family lived in the town of Maple, which is in Maine. He made such good donuts, so Dunkin owned a donut shop. His great grandfather started the business in the mid-eighteen hundreds. It traveled from generation to generation, until Dunkin inherited it.
His shop was a one story brick building. The roof was constructed of cedar logs. Every time the door was opened, it sounded like a cat whose tail was being smashed by your foot. Peeling paint was on the walls, revealing a puke green color underneath. The only new objects were the furniture, which Dunkin had made, himself.
Good old Dunkin made all kinds of donuts in his shop. He created white, brown, pink, and even orange donuts. Some of these sweets had sprinkles; others had fruit filling in the middle.
Grand pappy was having some problems, though. He had no customers. Dunkin couldn’t understand why. He told Mr. Packman and Mr. Buttkicker every Sunday, right before church. One may ask; how can you keep a business going with no customers? Well you see Dunkin’s father had passed on just recently. In his will, he left two hundred dollars for Dunkin, since his mom was already gone and he was a child with three other siblings who needed money too. Dunkin knew one thing for sure; the money would not last forever.
One day, Dunkin looked out of his shop window. He spotted Mrs. Buckett and Mrs. Hatchett walking by. So, he rushed to the door.”
“Good morning ladies, how would you like to drop in and have a donut or two and we’ll…” Dunkin was cut off by Mrs. Buckett.
“I’m afraid not Dunkin. We must hurry home and prepare lunch for our children.”
“Some other time, Dunkin.” Mrs. Hatchett replied. Dunkin gave a sigh of disappointment, and then went back inside.
“I cannot believe that man! How dare he keep that filthy shop open another minute!” Mrs. Buckett whispered.
“It’s a disgrace to mankind.” Mrs. Hatchett added.
“For a week, the heavens opened, and rain came tumbling down. On Wednesday, Dunkin felt worse than ever. He decided that he must shut down his business. Suddenly, the front door creaked open. A man that Dunkin did not recognize stepped in. The man had a crop of brown hair, and grass colored green eyes. He was wearing overalls, boots, a white shirt, and a yellow rain jacket.”
“So ya’ll gots any donuts here, or what?” As he stood there waiting for Dunkin’s reply.
“Yyeess ssiirr.” Dunkin stammered.
“What’s the matter son, is you afeared of strangers; if you is, my name is George. Now we ain’t strangers no more.” George grinned.
“Um, well, oh never mind. My name is Dunkin. Dunkin Donut. This is my donut shop. And, George, you just surprised me, because you are the first person in two years to come into this shop to get a donut. It’s just shocking, that’s all.”
“Listen good Dunkin, you can’t pass out on me, or anything like that, you hear? I don’t know that CPR stuff, and well, if you pass out, I ain’t gunna be the one to save ya. And you might stay passed out. “He looked straight into Dunkin’s eyes. “Dunkin, I gots to tell you something. I was a looking for a place to git some food. Then I told myself, now George old boy, you better git yourself into the first res-t-raunt you see, cause you are a mite bit hungry.”
“What kind of donut would you like, Mr. George?” Dunkin questioned. “I must hurry; I have several orders I must get started on.”
“I thought you said I was the first customer in two years to come into this shop.” George paused. “Oh I see. Now Dunkin, I’s a sorry. I wasn’t meaning to insult this here shop of yours.” Dunkin could tell George was truly sorry, by the look on his face, and the sincerity in his voice.
“Oh, it’s alright George. I don’t get it! Why doesn’t anyone come to my donut shop?” As Dunkin said this, he began to cry. George turned his head, and looked at the shop.
“Dunkin, how old is this here building?” George asked.
“About a hundred and fifty years old, why?”
“There ya go, that’s your problem right there. Oh yes! I just remembered. Dunkin, I would like two chocolate donuts.” He grinned. “I love chocolate donuts!” Dunkin handed George his donuts.
“What do you mean George?”
“Dunkin, this here building looks its age. You need to do some repair work as soon as you can.”
“No wonder no one comes to my shop.” Muttered Dunkin. “This is great! Maybe with this information in mind, I will have some customers in no time at all. Thanks George.”
“It was nothing. So how much for the chocolate donuts?”
“Oh yes. Let me think. They are ten cents George.” “George dropped a twenty dollar bill in Dunkin’s hand. Now, in cause you folks don’t know, that was a whole lot of money back then. It was enough for Dunkin to remodel the whole shop, inside and out.”
“Now Dunkin, you better git yourself started. Keep the change. It should help a little bit.” George grinned, as Dunkin began to protest. “Now what do I need money fer anyhow? I gots better things to do, than going around spending money. Bye Dunkin!” George called, as he left.
“Bye George.”
“Now, Dunkin did what George had suggested. He remodeled the whole shop from top to bottom. Now, there was new paint on the walls. It was peach colored, instead of puke green. Dunkin installed new tile, to match the wall paint. He replaced the squeaky door; the new one sounded as smooth as molasses. He even put up a new sign, in the front saying Dunkin Donuts. Then after it was all done, Dunkin invited people to come and check out his donut shop, and they said they would!
Soon, Dunkin’s business began to prosper. He was able to move into a new house, and buy new clothes for his whole family. Eventually, Dunkin had six kids. Don’t worry, though. His business was always booming, and his pockets were full (of money).”
“Oh my! Look at the time! I must go now, it’s past my lunchtime. Maybe for dessert I’ll stop at Dunkin’s Donut Shop. Bye now!”


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