Oh, the glorious donut

Oh, the glorious donut

Picture two young men, both in relationships, jogging on a lovely Seattle afternoon with an older attorney that they both work for. The pace is good. The conversation is light. They are in a very affluent and tree lined neighborhood. A girl jogs by. She’s … fit and healthy and wearing very snug pink shorts … the two younger men rubberneck in a less than subtle way and watch her pass by, not really slowing, but still altering their cadence just a smidge … the older attorney does not approve of the two young men simply being young men and scolds them mildly for their indiscretion … they both laugh it off, claiming that it really doesn’t matter if they look or where they get their appetites, as long as they eat at home … the attorney ponders this for a moment or two, likely relishing the opportunity to argue when he makes the following statement …

“How many times can you walk past the bakery before you go in and get yourself a maple bar?”

They had no answer.

However, they did in fact have a new catch phrase or code word to alert the other to an attractive woman in their vicinity; the “maple bar” …

Homer Simpson, police officers everywhere, and an attorney I used to work for but will not name here have immortalized my impressions of the donut …

So, when Tim and I were walking back to his car after a Sounders game? Yep, a warm Krispy Kreme when the red light is on ...

So, when I am cruising down the Mukilteo Speedway? Yep, a twist at Henry's ...

And, when I find myself downtown? Yep, Top Pot is open til seven ...

Of all the vices I could have ...