I just returned from a nice little walk along the Beverly shore to Dunkies (what Massholes call it) for a spot of coffee. The lines go slower here compared to NYC, as you'd imagine, but that's okay by me because I get to soak up the local color. The dude in front of me had a bunch of terrible homeade tattoos and a wicked lot of thick silver hoop piercings in his ears. He was with some broad in a wheelchair and was orderin' her a croissant.
"Plain? With nothin' on it? Ok."
(To the cashier): "I'd like one croissant, and a lahge iced vanilla coffee with 5 shoogiz and 5 creams."