I drive by a TopPot every day on the way to work.  Have never once gone in there.  The half-donut I had after a recent trip was more of a stress munch, and was the only donut I’ve had for a long time (6+ weeks). And I can smell the fried dough every day I drive by, but I never ever stop. 

But today I decided I’m just gonna go get one and get it over with and just ENJOY A TREAT.  Worked hard this week in the gym, did a 40min MRT blowout this morning, feeling good.  Donut ready.

Nothing fancy, just a maple old-fashioned or something like that.

As I park way behind in the garage and have to walk a long way to the door I see a sign that says

 

I’m thinking “Holy crap, it’s meant to be!  I finally give in a little and it’s free donut day!  Just ONE donut and I’ve been repaid for my patience!“

So I head on in, and I don’t see a large case like usual, but no bigs, I see some folks huddled around the case, and there’s a group from Northwest Harvest off to the side, taking donations.  Good call, because if folks aren’t paying for donuts, they have money to drop in those buckets!

 

So then I pull my wallet out, gonna get a coffee, too, great coffee at the Top Pot, I’m like 3rd person in line, and I peek around the gal ahead of me to see the case full of….

empty platters.  6 empty platters.  Some without crumbs.  Just bare and exhausted.

 

Oh, wait, no… there were 2 platters holding the following items. 

So I balk and turn to leave, still have my wallet out.  Northwest Harvest Greenbean Patrol stops me with the “HAVE YOU HEARD OF NORTHWEST HARVEST” and I have because I used to drop in and volunteer in college, and I drop a dollar and some change in a bucket while the lady says “You can give $10 and provide this much food…” pointing to a sign.  Her partner there is STARING AT THE MONEY IN THE CLIP OF MY WALLET and gives me a look like “Ummm… what’s that?”  And I leave, having just wasted time.  No donut, just accusatory stares.

 

So I go to the store because now it’s about getting a donut in my hole based solely on the notion that I will not be denied.  Some guy is standing in front of the donut case and cannot figure out how to get the box together for the dozen-ish he’s gonna bring to his co-workers, I presume.  I say “pardon me” and he doesn’t even move, then a little louder with, “Excuse me,” and again, nothing, so I just open a door while he’s standing there and say “again, pardon me, sir”  very nicely and he barely moves.  I grab a chocolate old fashioned, toss it in the bag, and barely have the door open so that I can let it close while he’s trying to reach in it.  I’m not his donut doorman, that guy and his coworkers can kiss my fritter.  I’m pretty much done with people at this point of the morning. 

 

Get to work, settle in with some coffee, and take a bite of the donut. 

Old.  Stale.  No flavor.  Just old and gross.  At least a day old. 

Threw it away after 2 bites. 

Before this weekend is out, I will have a donut in my hole.