Donuts

Like most people, I have a weakness for donuts. So when my co-worker Sara mentioned them earlier in the day, my immediate reaction was "I want donuts." Four hours (and around 80 donut-related comments) later she actually walked across the street to buy us all some. I think her motherly guilt kicked in. Now that's what I call dedication to your co-workers.

A few years ago, while sitting in my college townhouse, my two roommates and I lounged in the living room watching TV, flipping channels between reruns of America's Next Top Model and Puppy Bowl (instead of watching the actual Super Bowl). It was the first day in a few months that we all had off from school and work and although we felt especially lazy on the couches, we were really enjoying our precious roommate bonding time together. We stopped flipping during the makeover episode of ANTM because, in a sadistic way, we really loved when the girls cried because of the haircuts. As we laughed at how ridiculous each girl was, a commercial for Dunkin Donuts appeared. Immediately, as if a light turned off, we stopped talking.

"I want donuts" was all I could mutter. They both agreed.

Knowing that our friend Lane was coming over in around an hour, after he got off work, I quickly text messaged him. "Need donuts. Will pay you back. Much love!" I thought it accurately displayed out important the donuts were.

The thing was, we were all circus girls. We were trained to stay in shape, to rarely eat excess amounts of foods (although binge drinking was totally allowed). So on certain days we had intense cravings for foods that we really shouldn't have eaten. But we reasoned with ourselves. One little donut wouldn't hurt, right?

An hour later Lane showed up with a box of donuts in his hands. Like hungry vultures, we attacked. A small "hello" was muttered, but Lane was not important anymore. The donuts were.

While licking the powdered sugar off of our fingers, we watched the skinny models on ANTM pose for pictures. Feeling especially fat comparatively, especially after eating so much sugar, we all gave each other guilty faces. Those girls were small, brittle and we were gluttonous horses lying on plush couches. Before the guilt could really hit, Lane spoke up.

"There are still four more!"

Our eyes darted back and for between one another, the TV and the box. Finally, Sarah commented.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that donuts make you taller, not fatter. I think I read it somewhere. In a textbook. An official textbook. With official words."

We laughed, we smiled, and ultimately we finished the box of donuts.

I mean, seriously, what's one more, right?

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