Time to Make the Hot Dogs?

Dear Dunkin Donuts,

I love you. Let me say that first. My mother is responsible for 35% of my genetic makeup, my father 45% and you own 15% (the remaining 5% is Del's). The molecules of fat from your chocolate glazed donuts, your jelly donuts, your fat-bomb Coolatta line my arteries and will surely kill me prematurely as I've been indulging in your products since I had teeth. But I don't care. I love your iced coffee that gives me the jitters, your flat-packed boxes of donuts, and especially your most excellent Munchkins.

Did you notice I only mentioned your coffee and breakfast items? That's because when I think Dunkin Donuts, I think coffee and donuts. I do not, as you apparently would like me to, think of hot dogs. In fact, I do not associate your chain with any sort of protein source. Sure, you sell breakfast sandwiches, but those things are horrible. (Shout out to Croissant du Jour, home of Boston's Best Breakfast Sandwich, per me.)

Food chains are like people; each one has its strengths and weaknesses. You've held your own against Starbucks because you're affordable, quick, and lack the false pretentiousness that Starbucks serves up with lattes. You'll stand up against McDonald's because there are a large number of people like me who can't bear the idea of drinking coffee from McDoo's. Dunkin Donuts is for a quick, cheap coffee-rush and a reinforcing shot of sugar and fat when we're hungry. Office workers stop by to pick up Munchkins to provide midafternoon cheer to their coworkers. Nobody brings a dozen hot dogs back to the office.

24-hour Dunkins are almost always busy. Kids who aren't old enough to drink depressants instead sit in the plastic chairs and get hyped up on coffee. There's a distinct 3pm rush at the Dunkin by Back Bay of office drones who need a Turbo before they pass out on their keyboard. I don't buy that you need more business, and I certainly don't think a hot dog wrapped in dough is going to cut the mustard. (See what I did there?) Stick with what you're good at. I'm not going to become a physicist tomorrow, you're not going to be well-known for lunch. I saw those panini things you tried to sell, and it looked like you put kitty food in a sandwich and tried to pass it off as people food.

So, please, don't try to be everything. Just make the donuts, and we'll keep dunking them in coffee.

Sincerely,
Amy