Some evil person made a stop at the Krispy Kremeatorium on the way to work yesterday and plopped two dozen fresh donuts in my client’s lunchroom. I hadn’t had breakfast and had purchased a bran muffin on the way into the office, but it didn’t have a chance next to the exquisitely empty calories of one of their signature fresh glazed donuts.
People were making secret sorties into the lunchroom all morning, some only minutes after loudly exhorting officemates to tackle and physically restrain them if they made even the slightest move in that direction.
Another popular technique that emerged was the “cut just a bite off and leave the knife and the partial donut for other dainty appetites”. I forget which law it was in the demonology of high school geometry that averred that if you repeatedly progressed halfway to your goal, then half again, etc, you’d never get there. The last chocolate-covered donut in the box suffered that wasting death. In Oregon, it could have requested intervention and a quick demise, but here in Washington, a forlorn, deflated chunk of chocolate goo was still writhing in the box at 5. Perhaps the cleaning people were more humane. Or shamelessly hungry.