Donut Anxiety

For a few years I taught college test prep classes. In an attempt to make students feel more comfortable and, hopefully, more open to learning, we allowed food and snacks in our classrooms. So I thought little initially when a young woman brought coffee and a donut into class one day. She set down her coffee, put the donut on a napkin, and, with the rest of the students, dutifully opened a textbook to the page I had indicated.

I began to expound about English grammar. She listened quietly and wrote a couple of notes as I went along. After a minute of two she took a pinch, literally a pinch, hardly enough to call a crumb, off of her donut and ate it. I thought quietly to myself, and very calmly, 'Take a bite of the donut'.

I continued with my lecture. Before long the young lady had another infinitesimal bit of her donut, then a tiny, bare, meager sip at her coffee. 'Eat the donut,' I said to myself, a little more encouragingly.

Rules of the comma were the rule of the day, so I pressed on. She took another vague nip of her pastry. 'Take a bite of the donut,' said Marty to himself, becoming perturbed at her manner of consumption.

After an explanation of comma rule three and a note about such, another pinch of donut. 'Take. A bite. Of your donut,' I thought emphatically. By then it looked as though a mouse had been nibbling at it rather than a human being eating it.

Comma rule five followed comma rule four. Pick, pick, pick at the donut. She wasn't eating the doughy ring so much as slow torturing it. That pastry was undergoing a horrible, painful death. My pulse raced; a drip of sweat formed on my forehead. My blood pressure rose volcanically. In my mind I was yelling, 'For the love of all that's good and holy in this world, take a bite out of that stupid donut!

The math instructor appeared in the doorway. We tagged teamed our classes and she had arrived to do a math review. I finished up, gave a homework assignment, and rose to go to the other room to talk about the comma there. As I made my exit I took a furtive glance over my shoulder. The young woman had just consumed another atom of her snack.

'Take an actual bite out of that donut,' the math teacher thought, with a touch of anxiety. I could see it in her eyes.

It Happened One Day

I remembered I was running low on coffee pods at the old barn when I happened to be at a Dollar General, which was fortuitous as they can be difficult to find. I happened to discover they sold coffee pods, so I happened to buy some. As they happened to be on sale, I happened to buy several boxes.

As it happened, one flavor I chose was 'donut shop blend'. But they didn't happen to say which donut shop. Yet as there happens to be this thing called the Internet where all of human knowledge appears to be kept in storage, most of it in very deep storage unless you happen to like cat videos or morally questionable entertainment, I decided to find out which donut shop blend Dollar General's happened to be.

It happens to be from Fred and Mary's donut shop and troll doll emporium in South Witchita, Kansas. Closed Mondays. You're welcome.

The great unanswered coffee question

As I related a couple of months ago, I bought a used Keurig single cup coffee maker for use at the Shop. My home percolator is not yet happy with me but our relationship is thawing, albeit slowly. You can read about that here if you like: http://thesublimetotheridiculous.blogspot.com/2018/05/lazy-coffee-jealous-percolators.html
Anyway, I was surprised at the cost of the coffee pods, those little plastic cups with a single serving worth of ground coffee which are used with the Keurigs. My daughter helped me on that question by buying me refillable pods (thanks Sweetie!). Still, I can't pass on a good sale when I see one, and I saw one yesterday. It was forty filled pods for ten bucks. So I bought a box.
My only issue is with the flavor: it is listed on the box as 'donut shop'. But which blasted donut shop is it?
Around here, when I think donut shop I think Tim Hortons's. But it's not Tim's flavor at all. Far too weak, and not the least bit robust. Nor does it seem to be Dunkin's or Biggby's or, thankfully, Starbucks (which in my mind is overpriced and tastes burnt). The newfound coffee tastes fine, but I can't associate it with any particular donut shop at all.
I think truth in advertising ought to compel them to simply call it coffee. That's what it is, and they should say as much. Curmudgeon rant over.