|I've never had a muffin with that many chips.|
Are you cheating on me Dunkin'? Don't
think I won't find out.
The real issue at hand is the quality of chocolate chip muffins you have been trying to pass off as acceptable. While I am a baking snob, I understand that fine baked goods can’t be acquired every day. I was willing to settle with your muffins because I need to eat something sweet and chocolate filled when I get to work at 6:30am. It seems as though every muffin I get has even less chocolate chips in it. How dare you call it a chocolate chip muffin, when it only has about 15 chips in it? That thing should be just speckled in chocolaty brown. As far as I can see it is cake, cake, and cake colored. Sure, a plain muffin is fine. BUT IT’S NOT WHAT I WANT. I do not have time to bake myself muffins for every horrible day that I have to go to work. And I look to this muffin to the high point of my day, which is sure to decline from the moment I swipe that time card. If you’re supposed to be the basis for my work day’s happiness, you are failing. Miserably. I realize that I can’t rely on you to do all the work in maintaining my smiles and sanity throughout the workday. It would be nice, though, if you put in a little effort – like ANY effort at all.
This relationship isn’t working for me. I’m giving you a chance to change and live up to my demands. I’m not asking a lot. I just want freakin’ chocolate chips in my “Chocolate Chip Muffin.” I don’t need you to make coffee that tastes good. I don’t need you to do anything to your donuts. (I do occasionally still indulge in a chocolate frosted donut, even after the utter failure of my “Donut Diet” initiative). JUST THE CHIPS. CHOCOLATE CHIPS. They are easy to find. You can get them at the grocery store. I don’t care if you poke holes in the muffin to make sure it is chock full. Just, GET IT DONE. I will only ask once. I pay for everything; I’m always the one coming to you; I suffer through your faults. It’s about time you did something for me. If you can’t come through for me, we’re through. Sorry, it’s just how it goes. I don’t want to be some fat chick eatin’ shitty muffins.