“How long…

do you think it would take us to get a dozen?” We laughed as we went back to the car.

After our trip to Home Depot, we stopped by the local Krispy Kreme. I tried to explain to him the absolute reverence I had for Krispy Kreme, those delectable, melt-in-your mouth sugary sensations hailing, as do I, from Winston-Salem, North Carolina. We watched the procession as we entered. The circles of dough, evenly spaced on the conveyer belt, going up and down, up and down, before being plopped into sizzling hot grease, fried to a delicious golden brown before wafting under the waterfall of pure sugar. Mmmmm!

We strolled up to the counter, I surveying the display case, he waiting. The guy behind the counter, obviously bored, without looking at us, thrust two freshly made, piping hot original glazed doughnuts towards us. “Sample?” We gladly accepted, then walked back to the assembly line, watching the doughnuts bobble in the hot grease. After finishing our free sample, we walked back to the display case. I was ready to order one of my all time favorite doughnuts, the chocolate covered, cream (not custard) filled, with a glass of milk. We stood there patiently. Again, right on cue, the counter boy, still not looking at us, thrust two more freshly made, piping hot original glazed doughnuts towards us. “Sample?” Again, we took the doughnuts.

It took a few minutes for me to get his attention. He started at me with another freshly made glazed doughnut in his hand. “No, I don’t want a sample. I’d like to get one of those to go.”

We laughed as we went back to the car. I bet if we had had a box we could have easily garnered a dozen.

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