Y.P.R.: Dear Dairy Barn

Tuesday, March 4, 2003 | Letters (from)

Dear Dairy Barn

by Geoff Wolinetz

Dairy Barn
Merrick Store
2081 Merrick Road
Merrick, N.Y., 11566

Dear Dairy Barn,

O.K., I love your stores. Every morning, on my way to work on Freeport’s famous “Nautical Mile,” I stop just off the road and enter the Freeport store. I’ll usually get a 16-ounce cup of coffee with a little skim milk and no sugar. NO SUGAR! On the way home, I’ll pop into your Dairy Barn (Merrick) for a dinner of Betzio Pizza and a bottle of Yoo-hoo. I’ve been doing this every day for 16 years and you people still don’t recognize me. That’s O.K. I dye my hair a different color every day. It’s ecru today.

I’m getting away from my point. Point is: I went into the Freeport store this morning to get my customary purchase and I overheard one of the gentleman behind the counter discussing one of your annual get-togethers. As I understand it, you Dairy Barners periodically have soirées to celebrate the success of your company. Anyway, this Freeportonian gentleman, “Dirk” (if that’s his real name), said some pretty nasty things about the people who work at the Merrick store. “Dirk” is new to the Freeport Dairy Barn and I could give a rat’s ass about some stupid kid getting his feet wet in the world of Dairy Barn, especially if he’s a punk. I’m far more loyal to Jeff, Bill, and Anwar, the Merrick staff. You guys work in my hometown. You are the glue that holds this community together. I’m not afraid to admit it.

Here’s what I propose. I have a tire iron and some gasoline in the trunk of my car. The Dairy Barn at 177 Atlantic Avenue closes at 11 p.m. My idea would be to start drinking around 10 p.m. We get good and liquored up. Around midnight, we’ll head over to the store and throw a brick through the window in front. We’ll tie a note to the brick that says, “Cool it, Dirk. You don’t want to know what we can do.” We take a picture of the gasoline and rags in my trunk, sitting next to the tire iron, and tie that to the brick also.

You guys at the Merrick Dairy Barn are hardworking men, supporting families. You don’t need this guff from those no-good Freeport punks. I’m willing to help you out. Let me know if you are cool with this. I’m open to suggestions.

Yours truly,
Geoff Wolinetz

P.S. Why don’t you guys sell Ring-Dings?

Geoff Wolinetz cannot be found on IMDb because the Hollywood community refuses to acknowledge the production of his seminal masterpiece Come What May, a gritty psychothriller starring a guy who kind of looks like Billy Baldwin and Erin Gray (formerly of "Silver Spoons"). If he were to be found on IMDb, his name would fall between "Geoff Witcher" and "Geoff Wood." In addition to his imaginary film career, Geoff also maintains an imaginary career as a baron of industry, is lead singer of the imaginary band Kick Ass, Falco, holds an imaginary Olympic gold medal and is an imaginary Pulitzer laureate in the field of journalism for his investigative piece on the albinos of Alaska.