Rumble at the Donut Shop

This morning my daughter asked me to get donuts, and so how could I resist? As I pulled into a parking space at the donut shop, a guy in a Mercedes drove into the space next to me. He had barely stopped his car when he lept out and headed for the donut shop door, leaving his two daughters trailing behind. I saw his little game: he wanted to be sure to get into the shop ahead of me. And it seemed he had succeeded: even though I popped right out of my car, I entered the shop behind him (but ahead of his daughters).

Once in the shop, the store proprietor asked him what he would like. Of course, he didn't know. He turned to the trailing daughters and asked them what they wanted. Meanwhile, I eyed the only remaining apple fritter, which represented my wife's request. I needed that fritter. I was prepared to go to the mat for that fritter. But luckily, karma intervened: the co-proprietor came out and helped me, thus securing the final fritter and a few other treats. I paid and made my escape while my rival was arguing with his daughters about how many donuts they should get.

It's hard out here in the suburbs.

Comments

[rentzsch]

Be sure to pour a 40oz coffee on the sidewalk for all your dead homies. Or just the ones stuck in the mall holiday shopping.

[Gordon Meyer]

What a great story. When people ask me what it's like, really like, to live in the South Bay I'll point them to this story. It's just sooo perfect in that regard.

[Larry Hosken]

I am shocked and dismayed that you thought that this old and stale apple fritter, the last in its batch, was good enough for your wife. If you were a true Donut Shop powerhouse, you would have demanded that the proprietors fry up a fresh batch and give you the first one.