Would you like some attitude with your coffee?

I live in Charlestown, a section of the city that used to be home to Boston's Irish-American gangtsas, hoods and bank robbers, but now is overrun with babies, dogs and investment bankers.

One of the things that's so charming about my 'hood is that the townies and the toonies (yuppie scum like me) co-exist pretty happily. They're happy we came in and updated the place. We're happy to have the "character" that keeps real estate prices low.

But where the two worlds divide is in the land of coffee, where you have two options for your morning caffeine rush: Dunkin Donuts and Zume's. Which one you choose separates the wheat from the chaff. Personally, I don't draw a line in the sand. I straddle the fence and decide where to go based on my mood.

Now, one might think that at Dunkins, while you could get "comfort food" in the form of their weak but lovable coffee, calorie-rich muffins, bagels and donuts, you might get a surly attitude from minimum-wage chain-store-working donut-sellers. And while prices would naturally be higher at the highbrow coffee shop Zume's across the street, you'd get some neighborhood charm and friendliness that would make it worth crossing the street.

Not so. In fact, the opposite is true. The workers at Zume's seem as though they are doing you the hugest favor by waiting on you at all. I've rarely seen any of them smile, and I often leave there feeling a little bit hassled and like I've just offended them by paying $7 for a coffee, banana, apple and yogurt.

At Dunkins, the servers are chipper immigrants, with smiles on their face and wry senses of humor, trying to get the morning rush crowd through as quickly as possible. I've rarely felt mistreated and usually walk out of there at max $3.50 lighter.

So, the choice should be clear. I should choose townie over toonie and stay true to my roots - as well as my tolerance for rudeness. But at D&D, for all of it's charm and nostalgia, they only serve muffins, donuts and bagels. No healthy options to be had. If only they had fruit. If only their coffee was a little bit stronger.

Instead, I suffer through surly service at Zume's, watching the carriage corral as the moms who don't work gather to gossip and chat with their perfect toddlers and $500 strollers, probably re-living a routine that's not too dissimilar from Charlestown mothers of yore - just with more expensive coffee.

The real solution to my bourgeois dilemma? Make my coffee at home and tote my own yogurt and fruit to work. But then, what would I have to complain about?