Jerry Seinfeld has a joke in his stand up routine about how in every town, there is always one building that constantly remains empty no matter what you do with it. He calls it a cursed building. There is nothing wrong with the location or the building itself, but for some reason, store after store seems to fail at them.
In the Hamptons we have a couple of locations like that. The most prominent one is where the current Dunkin‘ Doughnuts stands in Southampton. Before that it was a Starbucks and before that it was a Chock Full O’Nuts and before that it was the Greasy Spoon. Nothing there seemed to work, not even the big name brands.
But it would appear, that Dunkin‘ Doughnuts, has in some way, some super power magical way, broken the curse.
In Bridgehampton, right next to Carvel, is an empty restaurant that has all but been abandoned. The name of the restaurant, years ago, when it was in business, was called, “Schmoozies” and was a Jewish restaurant. About fifteen years ago, you could go in there and get a tongue sandwich, and it wierded me out.
Yesterday, I was in Bridgehampton at the Commons and I saw a sign that startled me, it was a sign down the street from the Gap, at a store that has been empty for quite a while, and it read that a Dunkin‘ Doughnuts was opening soon there.
It suddenly hit me that Dunkin‘ Doughnuts has the ability to break the curse of a cursed commercial space. And so I got an idea. Any abandoned commercial space that just doesn’t seem to find any renters year after year, should just become a Dunkin‘ Doughnuts, because damn it, they stay in business, I don’t know how they do it, but they do.
I feel like every time I go to Dunkin‘ Doughnuts I get a large coffee, and then I’m asked if I want a doughnut and I usually say no. “Are you sure? HOW ABOUT FIFTY FOR FREE?!” They ask.
Dunkin‘ Doughnuts, for whatever reason, is truly not in the business of selling doughtnuts in the Hamptons. it’s rare for me to see people at Dunkin‘ Doughnuts actually, well, buying doughnuts. For some reason though, when you get in there, you feel like purchasing anything BUT a doughnut.
I bet if Dunkin‘ Doughnuts started selling cars behind the counter I’d probably buy one, and they’d offer me a pack of doughnuts every time I bought a new car.
“No thanks, but I’ll take a large coffee with it if you don’t mind,” I’d say.