When you eat a bagel, do you eat it plain – no butter, no cream cheese, no nothing?
Wouldn't that be like eating a potato plain? Who does that?
So I was flabbergasted when given the total – $1.79 – for my bagel with butter at Dunkin' Donuts the other day.
"Shut UP!" I exclaimed.
Nowhere on the sign above the counter does it say, "bagel with butter," $1.79. It says, "bagel, $1.19," and "bagel with cream cheese, $2.19."
In my decades of life, I always thought the butter was just automatically included with the bagel. Butter goes with bagels like dressing goes with salad, like ketchup goes with french fries. It's inseparable. Nobody eats a bagel plain!
As soon as I arrived at my desk at work after this shocking experience at Dunkin' Donuts, I shot off an email to Dunkin' Donuts headquarters.
The next day, I got a call from the One City Center franchise owner, "Tiffany." She said that all Dunkin' Donutses charge extra for butter, and that if I hadn't paid extra all my life, then I had been chronically undercharged.
What the charge pays for is the plastic knife and the butter, she said. And the toaster energy, if the bagel is toasted.
I still couldn't believe that Dunkin' Donuts had been charging me for butter all my life and I never noticed it. I thought "Tiff" was wrong.
So on my way to work, I stopped at a different Dunkin' Donuts.
At the drive-up, I got the standard "How can I help you?"
I asked for a plain bagel, which at this Dunkin' Donuts was priced at $1.09, and got the standard, "Would you like that toasted?"
"Is it going to cost me?" I asked.
"No," the voice said.
"What if I want butter? Is that going to cost me?" I asked.
After a pause, the voice said, "Yes, that would be $1.92."
Wow! 83 cents for butter!
I drove off, bagel-less, and headed to the next Dunkin' Donuts, where the butter similarly beefed up the bagel price.
Well, I guess Tiffany wasn't just yanking my chain. But I wasn't done yet.
For comparison's sake, I made a special trip to the Tim Horton's near the Maine Mall. Here the base price for a bagel was 99 cents. To my delight, there was no extra charge for knife, butter or toasting.
Their coffee isn't as good, but it's worth the money saved on butter.
Dunkin' Donuts should be ashamed of itself.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Memorial Day
I woke up half an hour before the parade was to start here in little Limerick, too late to walk a horse up the hill.
So Rex, Kayti and I enjoyed the festivities from the sidelines.
What really made this Memorial Day memorable was the scene across the street from where we stood. As the preacher intoned the benediction, a woman hustled a boy (presumably her son) to the side of the road, facing us, and he threw up, not just once, but time after time after time. It was bright orange, too.
It was so gross. I almost gagged. Just when we'd think he couldn't possibly have anything more coming out, more came out.
Well.
We spent the rest of the day trying to expunge the image from our minds' eyes.
Have a nice day!
So Rex, Kayti and I enjoyed the festivities from the sidelines.
What really made this Memorial Day memorable was the scene across the street from where we stood. As the preacher intoned the benediction, a woman hustled a boy (presumably her son) to the side of the road, facing us, and he threw up, not just once, but time after time after time. It was bright orange, too.
It was so gross. I almost gagged. Just when we'd think he couldn't possibly have anything more coming out, more came out.
Well.
We spent the rest of the day trying to expunge the image from our minds' eyes.
Have a nice day!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Send Debbi to Fenway
Kayti is a finalist for Red Sox Kids Nation Captain, so please vote for her! She's one of 25 chosen from almost 1,000 entrants.
Of course, I think she deserves to become a Captain, based on her stellar platform (you can read her essay on the ballot), but the winners get to take a parent to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park, so there's an added incentive for me to get out the vote.
The link is at left. If that doesn't work, go to:
http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/bos/fan_forum/kn_captain_ballot_form.jsp
You can also go to redsox.com/kidnation and tell them to click on “Kid Nation Captains Contest” in the right navigation panel.
Of course, I think she deserves to become a Captain, based on her stellar platform (you can read her essay on the ballot), but the winners get to take a parent to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park, so there's an added incentive for me to get out the vote.
The link is at left. If that doesn't work, go to:
http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/bos/fan_forum/kn_captain_ballot_form.jsp
You can also go to redsox.com/kidnation and tell them to click on “Kid Nation Captains Contest” in the right navigation panel.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Kayti's View
For my 11-year-old daughter Kayti's take on our trip to Ohio, or on anything else she feels like opining about, check out her site: http://omegaz-7.deviantart.com/journal/
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Hall of Fame
Rex is now a QRP Hall of Famer. He said this morning that if he hadn't been so incoherent with emotion while accepting the award, he would have thanked me and Kayti. "For my grudging support, you mean?" I asked innocently.
Now that he's been validated, he'll probably spend twice as much time on QRP. Don't see how that's possible, though, since he's already QRP-occupied 24/7.
We'll be leaving Ohio today, and not a moment too soon. I can't stand being in a room with this many mirrors. If hotel furnishers were smart, they'd put in mirrors that make you look good. It will be good to get home and be able to keep my eyes open in the bathroom.
It's actually quite chilly out today. Not the Ohio I've come to know and appreciate. My exit strategy for today -- the one I dictated to my family yesterday -- is in shambles, and it's only 8:50 a.m. Instead of dashing from MetroPark to MetroPark, taking the pictures I should have taken in the past few days, I'm doing laundry and cattle-prodding Rex to pack up his stuff.
Kayti, of course, is still in bed, sleeping soundly.
Now that he's been validated, he'll probably spend twice as much time on QRP. Don't see how that's possible, though, since he's already QRP-occupied 24/7.
We'll be leaving Ohio today, and not a moment too soon. I can't stand being in a room with this many mirrors. If hotel furnishers were smart, they'd put in mirrors that make you look good. It will be good to get home and be able to keep my eyes open in the bathroom.
It's actually quite chilly out today. Not the Ohio I've come to know and appreciate. My exit strategy for today -- the one I dictated to my family yesterday -- is in shambles, and it's only 8:50 a.m. Instead of dashing from MetroPark to MetroPark, taking the pictures I should have taken in the past few days, I'm doing laundry and cattle-prodding Rex to pack up his stuff.
Kayti, of course, is still in bed, sleeping soundly.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Geese Crossing
Try this for heart-stopping: You're barreling along on a six-lane divided highway, and suddenly, there's a mother goose, a father goose and about six goslings stepping out onto the asphalt right in front of you.
Kayti yells, "Mom, look out!" I swerve, barely missing them, Rex rips into me for putting humans at risk for the sake of a gosling or two.
We spent the next minute with our eyes glued to the rear-view mirror. To Ohioan drivers' credit, soon the road in front of the waddling geese looks like the starting line of a race. Six abreast, the cars rumble and idle while the mom and dad shepherd their youngsters across the highway.
After we'd finished our errand, we drove back to the hotel the same way and were vastly relieved to see the goose family resting comfortably on the grass on the side of the road where they'd been headed.
Rex, still p.o.'d that I'd swerved, told a story about doing the same thing once when he was driving a dump truck, to avoid squashing a painted turtle. He said his boss, who was driving another truck right behind him, was aghast, and to teach him a lesson, aimed for the turtle and flattened it.
Clearly, it was a lesson Rex never forgot!
Kayti yells, "Mom, look out!" I swerve, barely missing them, Rex rips into me for putting humans at risk for the sake of a gosling or two.
We spent the next minute with our eyes glued to the rear-view mirror. To Ohioan drivers' credit, soon the road in front of the waddling geese looks like the starting line of a race. Six abreast, the cars rumble and idle while the mom and dad shepherd their youngsters across the highway.
After we'd finished our errand, we drove back to the hotel the same way and were vastly relieved to see the goose family resting comfortably on the grass on the side of the road where they'd been headed.
Rex, still p.o.'d that I'd swerved, told a story about doing the same thing once when he was driving a dump truck, to avoid squashing a painted turtle. He said his boss, who was driving another truck right behind him, was aghast, and to teach him a lesson, aimed for the turtle and flattened it.
Clearly, it was a lesson Rex never forgot!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Possum Creek
Day 2: Mission MetroPark
Friday, May 14.
Germantown MetroPark proved a bit difficult to find. So after motoring along lovely, field-bordered, straight, flat roads for a futile half hour, I stopped at a cemetery office to ask a native. The native said he'd never heard of Germantown MetroPark. A woman in another office called out helpfully, "It's probably in Germantown."
They suggested I go to Possum Creek MetroPark , which was just up the road a piece, instead.
Possum Creek rates higher than Carriage Hill in my book. It's more interesting. There are preserved 1800s farms everywhere. You can't throw a stone around here without hitting one. Possum Creek, however, has an intriguing story. (Speaking of intriguing, I need to find out what the heck "Fifth Third" is. There's "Fifth Third" everything here, including a Fifth Third Bank.)
It seems that back around the turn of the last century, a Dayton couple surnamed Hodapp became parents to a baby boy they inexplicably (so far -- I intend to find out why) saddled with the name Null. Null's best friend from babyhood on forward was a fellow named Ralph Clemons. They had lots of boyhood adventures together, then enlisted in the Army and served together in World War I. Null survived the war, but Ralph was killed in the Argonne Forest -- get this -- one hour before the Armistice was signed.
Null was devastated. He never really got over the loss of his boon companion. He eventually became a judge in these parts, saved his money and began buying land. When he had some 200 acres, he turned the tract into a park, which he named "Argonne Forest Park" in honor of his unit, his friend Ralph, and the Armistice. Through the 1930s & '40s, people played ball, danced, swam, picnicked and even rented cabins there.
As you walk through the "Argonne Forest" today, you can see remnants of the park Null developed. It's reverted to woods, but Null's story gave me plenty to ponder as I traipsed past the rusted carcasses of the four streetcars he'd put to various uses, and the cracked cement dance floor, and the bridges built from stone. I'd like to know more about the guy. It's a touching story.
Today's park is 556 acres and includes a 100-acre farm with barnyard animals and activities for kids and families. I didn't make it over there. Mainly I just walked the trails and wondered if I would be able to remember Null Hodapp's name when I sat down to write this.
Here's something funny: After I picked up Rex & Kayti at the hamfest, I told them about not finding the Germantown park and stopping at the cemetery, etc. etc. As we drove back to the motel, Kayti saw a sign by the side of the road. "Is Natl Cemetery the one you stopped at today, Mom?" she asked. I'm like, Nattle Cemetery? Huh? Then I laugh. "Kayti, it's NATIONAL Cemetery. Natl is just an abbreviation."
Too funny. Kids are just so naturally hilarious!
Friday, May 14.
Germantown MetroPark proved a bit difficult to find. So after motoring along lovely, field-bordered, straight, flat roads for a futile half hour, I stopped at a cemetery office to ask a native. The native said he'd never heard of Germantown MetroPark. A woman in another office called out helpfully, "It's probably in Germantown."
They suggested I go to Possum Creek MetroPark , which was just up the road a piece, instead.
Possum Creek rates higher than Carriage Hill in my book. It's more interesting. There are preserved 1800s farms everywhere. You can't throw a stone around here without hitting one. Possum Creek, however, has an intriguing story. (Speaking of intriguing, I need to find out what the heck "Fifth Third" is. There's "Fifth Third" everything here, including a Fifth Third Bank.)
It seems that back around the turn of the last century, a Dayton couple surnamed Hodapp became parents to a baby boy they inexplicably (so far -- I intend to find out why) saddled with the name Null. Null's best friend from babyhood on forward was a fellow named Ralph Clemons. They had lots of boyhood adventures together, then enlisted in the Army and served together in World War I. Null survived the war, but Ralph was killed in the Argonne Forest -- get this -- one hour before the Armistice was signed.
Null was devastated. He never really got over the loss of his boon companion. He eventually became a judge in these parts, saved his money and began buying land. When he had some 200 acres, he turned the tract into a park, which he named "Argonne Forest Park" in honor of his unit, his friend Ralph, and the Armistice. Through the 1930s & '40s, people played ball, danced, swam, picnicked and even rented cabins there.
As you walk through the "Argonne Forest" today, you can see remnants of the park Null developed. It's reverted to woods, but Null's story gave me plenty to ponder as I traipsed past the rusted carcasses of the four streetcars he'd put to various uses, and the cracked cement dance floor, and the bridges built from stone. I'd like to know more about the guy. It's a touching story.
Today's park is 556 acres and includes a 100-acre farm with barnyard animals and activities for kids and families. I didn't make it over there. Mainly I just walked the trails and wondered if I would be able to remember Null Hodapp's name when I sat down to write this.
Here's something funny: After I picked up Rex & Kayti at the hamfest, I told them about not finding the Germantown park and stopping at the cemetery, etc. etc. As we drove back to the motel, Kayti saw a sign by the side of the road. "Is Natl Cemetery the one you stopped at today, Mom?" she asked. I'm like, Nattle Cemetery? Huh? Then I laugh. "Kayti, it's NATIONAL Cemetery. Natl is just an abbreviation."
Too funny. Kids are just so naturally hilarious!
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