Tonight I found myself comfortably welded to the couch, surrounded by all my creature comforts: remote controls, laptop, blankies and two cats, when an overwhelming desire for donuts washed over me.
I had a gift card for Dunkin’ Donuts and they have a drive-thru. I haven’t showered in two days, I wouldn’t have to be seen by humans for very long and all I had to do was put on pants.
But I still asked myself whether I had the energy to go. Was it worth detaching myself from the couch, putting on pants, and going out in the cold?
Whenever I have a pressing question, I go to Facebook and ask all my friends what I should do.
The consensus was that, yes, I should go upstairs and put on pants and drive a short distance to Dunkin’ Donuts and partake in a donut feast.
One friend said the closest one to her was two hours away; in fact, Cuba was closer, and I should go on behalf of all the people in the world who don’t have a Dunkin’ Donuts within a 10 minute drive.
And so I went. For humanity.
Now, I had some fears about ordering donuts at the drive-thru. Normally, when you order a dozen donuts, one requests a mixture of flavors and one is typically standing inside at the counter, pointing at them so the cashier knows what you want.
In my case, because I’m not actually near the donuts, and also because I didn’t want to get into a screaming match over the intercom selecting some crazy mixture of donuts, I decided I would keep it simple and order this:
Half dozen Boston Cream.
Half dozen Glazed.
Immediately I’m told that they only have three glazed. OK, no problem. I order the three glazed, plus three powdered, plus the six Boston Cream.
I pull around to the pick-up window, where I am told they were wrong about the powdered. They have none of those.
I am speechless because I don’t know how to describe any of the other pretty little donuts they have inside that I can’t see.
I put my palm to forehead and think, think, think.
The cashier says “Ma’am, are you OK?”
I can’t look this guy in the eyes because I’m so embarrassed that he thinks I think this is the worst thing that could ever happen to a person, but that’s not what I’m thinking.
I’m thinking that I’m sitting at a donut place, a place that makes almost nothing but donuts, and they have hardly any donuts in a donut place that sells donuts.
Wait a minute – maybe this is the worst thing that could happen to a person.
“I don’t know what to order now,” I sigh.
“Well, what else do you like?” he asks.
I tell him “How about those glazed ones with the chocolate icing on them?”
He reports that they have some and I hear him shout to the back “Three iced chocolate glazed!”
I wait an eternity for my donuts to be handed to me.
When they are, the cashier says “Ma’am, I hope you like your donuts.”
Again, I can’t look this guy in the face because I’m kind of mortified that he is sure I’m going to pull away with my not-what-I-really-came-for donuts and cry my eyes out.
I got home.
And I ate three of these immediately.
And I wondered where the iced chocolate glazed ones were. Didn’t I specify iced chocolate glazed?
Oh, hell. Does it really matter?
No, it does not.
I am full of donuts and life is good. All for the price of putting pants on.
For the win!Stumble it!