Recently, I was with two executives of a client I work with who had no idea why Dunkin' is call Dunkin. Not exactly a condemnation of our educational system, but still not good for Massachusetts residents to be ignorant of our place in history.

I devotedly educated them on the history of the dunking donut, which was not always round.

When I did, I thought of updating a Weblog published several years ago as a way to inform others who may be suffering the same gap in their local historical education.

As luck would have it, I recently had a 'rough' week, by my standards. I had two trips into Boston with the rush hour benefits of 2 hours inbound and only an hour and 45 minutes outbound. 7.5 hours in traffic, mostly on the Mass Pike, enabled me to run out of podcasts, if you know what I mean. Back-to-back brutal days. I thought people were working from home?

Plus, the next day, I had another 100-mile trip, so by Friday, I was a little cranky and starting to feel sorry for myself.

I was instantly cured at a Dunkin Donuts drive thru by something I did.

As you read it ask yourself the question: "Would you pay $5 to have a great day?"

I am aware that there are separate camps for Dunkin and Starbucks fans, not quite as distant from each other as Democrats and Republicans today, or even Red Sox and Yankees fans.

The incident that triggered this unusual meditative state for me took place about six in the morning as I was on my way to Starbucks. Only kidding, on my way to Dunkin Donuts.

I am a Dunkin person, partially because I grew up bike-riding distance from the original Dunkin Donuts in Quincy, Mass. When I get a Starbucks gift card, I give it away to a friend named Melissa. No offense to Seattle coffee, but I grew up on Dunkin and I'm not sure how they legally call that other stuff 'coffee'.

This week when I was on the verge of FSFM (Feeling Sorry for Myself) what i did made me feel good the rest of the day, and only cost me less than $5.

After reading the story, you may want to try it too.

First of all, you should know that one of my personal habits to minimize my stress, feel good about myself, and to maintain a positive perspective, is to generally ‘let other cars in’ when I am driving.

That might mean flashing my lights to signal to another driver, or it might mean slowing down so that cars entering the highway can merge easier, or it could mean letting trucks change lanes in front of me, because it must be hard to change lanes in a tractor-trailer.

Now, don't get me wrong, I can deliver an artistically appropriate gesture to someone who has earned it. After all, I am from Massachusetts.

I had something happen to me in a Dunkin Donuts drive thru that inspired this story. It also started me thinking about a way we could all make the world a better place, one coffee at a time. 

Deep, I know, but occasionally I do take a deep breath and think even deeper thoughts. I promise it won't happen very often.

As I approached the restaurant, I noticed that there was a car trying to make a difficult move across two lanes of traffic into the Dunkin parking lot from across the street. Without thinking, I flicked my lights twice to signal to the other car she was good to go, and she did, right into the drive thru lane ahead of me.

I did what everyone does in the drive thru lane while waiting: act bored, change the radio station and check email. When I finally arrived at the window after placing my order, I reached for payment, but the cashier told me ‘the woman ahead of you took care of it.’ Bang. 6:02 in the morning, in Rutland, Massachusetts and someone I can never thank, ‘took care of it.’

I started thinking about the dominos in this sequence of events:

• First Domino. A minor act of courtesy, pretty much without thinking. When it happened, I probably felt kind of good, like my courtesy merit badge was getting closer.
• Second Domino. A complete stranger said 'thank you' in a very cool way, to someone she will never see again. Cool.
• Third Domino. I was pleased, at both the 100% discount and the thought. (Remember, it’s the thought that counts. But I did get free coffee).
• Fourth Domino. She must have felt good the rest of the day because of HER actions. She knows she is a class act. I bet she had a great day.
• Fifth Domino. I felt good the rest of the day too, because my act of courtesy was appreciated.
• Sixth Domino. I couldn't wait for my next time through the drive thru, so I could pay for the car behind me and feel great.
• Eighth Domino: After reading this, you might try it too?

The simple flick of headlights to let someone in became contagious. Better world, one coffee at a time.

While I won't claim ‘let someone in’ while you are driving and you'll get a free coffee, I can recommend that if you ‘let someone in’ while you are driving the world will be a better place, and you might get a free coffee.

If the next time you are in the drive thru, you try it and it feels good paying for the car behind you, let me know, because you can help make free coffee a better kind of contagious, and you can judge whether or not it is worth it to pay $5 to have a great day.

Postscript

After writing the first draft of this Weblog, my wife, with no idea of the subject, shared that when she was at Dunkin that morning, she had planned to pay for the person behind her in the drive thru lane.

When she got to the window, she was shocked that the employee let her know the woman in front of her in line had paid for her order.

Back to back people got free coffee, imagine if that streak kept going? Free coffee is contagious.