I don't drink coffee (although I have eaten more donuts than I should), so I've never really understood the Dunkin' Donuts phenomenon. There is a funny piece in the Phoenix about it.
Mom’s got it bad. Who can fault her for hoping to pin blame on nefarious additives for her daily five-mile trek to and from a Dunkin’ drive-thru for a fix in a Styrofoam cup? She’s not alone. Heck, she’s better off than a lot of people. Like the lady in the TV ad — based on one Brocktonian’s true story — who bushwhacks her way through what seems like miles of highway-side bramble, finally steps gingerly over a guardrail, and crosses three lanes of traffic to bring coffee to her gridlock-stuck carpool mates. Or the transplanted New Englander in Houston who drove 35 miles every weekend to the nearest Dunkin’ just for a cup of that sweet, creamy Arabica nectar.
It's the one aspect of Boston life I have always felt slightly removed from. I prefer tea and Dunkin' Donuts tea always seemed too weak compared to Irish breakfast tea......they don't have Chamomile and Starbucks Chai is better. As far as donuts go, Lori-Ann's on Bunker had incredible donuts that no other place could touch. Alas they closed a few years ago.
Dunkin' Donuts actually caused a low score for me in one of those online quizzes. "How Massachusetts Are You?" I only scored 84% because I missed all the Dunkin' questions (and I wouldn't own a T-Shirt with an obscenity on it, no matter how much I hate the Yankees).