I indulge in a visit to the bakery most mornings during the week. One Sugar Raised Donut, thank you. We’re all on a first name basis over there.
Well, they call me “their favorite customer.” I’ll accept that as my first name.
(Due to my predictable frequency and an electronic error, my Donut Lovers for Life card showed that I had earned 270 free dozen donuts. That would be a dozen free donuts, every week, for five years. And maybe still a few freebies. I could cater a party. Or a wedding. I alerted them to the error. Even if they give me 10% of the mistake, it’s more donuts than I really need. Certainly not more than I want, though.)
I decided to drop in this morning to get a free dozen for my family. I was just out of bed, tarbled in every way. No make up, hair in a messy bun, in my jammies t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
“Good morning,” says the donut guy.
“Good morning.” Awkward pause as I can see he’s noticed I’m not quite as together as I am on weekdays. “I’m, um, sleepy this morning.”
“Yes, I can tell.”
Yes, thank you. Let’s just talk donuts.
I gather my assortment. He places them in the box, like pieces in a Jenga puzzle.
“And would you like any coffee with your donuts this morning?”
I always say no, typically because I’m going to Starbucks to write and I can’t see why I’d get coffee somewhere else if I’m blessedly on my way there. It’s like grabbing a burger at Wendy’s on my way to Five Guys.
But this morning, I’m heading back to my parents’ house, since we’re staying there for the time being, allowing spotlessness in my home as one potential buyer after another strolls through to envision their future.
(Translation: we’ve brought our mess to my parents’ house. You can pray for them.)
I knew that my dad’s fresh roasted coffee was waiting for me. Again, I’ll pass on the coffee from an inferior proprietor. “No, thank you.”
Mr. Donuts gives me an up and down glance. “You’re sure you don’t want coffee?”
“I look like I need a cup of coffee, don’t I?”
“Well, I mean, I wasn’t going to say so.”
Right. Thanks. The donuts are all I need today. Along with my dad’s coffee.
The Lord can use even the “doughnut/coffee” guy to show us that he has a great sense of humor:)
I’ve had this happen to me more times than you know.
This is just so entertaining and funny! I love the way you write, Tricia! Your descriptive little ad libs crack me up “It’s like grabbing a burger at Wendy’s on my way to Five Guys.” And, I couldn’t agree more!