"uh huh, I was planning on hitting Krispy Kreme, but what is this Paul's you speak of"?
Horror-stricken, she managed to eke out "you've never been to Paul's"?
I repeated, "what is Paul's"?
Like Narnia's White Witch offering Turkish Delight, she explained in suddenly smooth tones: "why Paul's is a bakery right down on Lafayette with possibly the best doughnuts on the planet. You really must try them."
That was all I needed to hear. Gypsy magic or Jedi mind tricks I was now propelled by a mission. Yes, I MUST try them. A hearty wave out of my car window, followed by a farewell shout and shrieks of joy, I was crankin' down the road to pastry heaven.
Paul's unassuming shop took a while to locate, but I found it -- drawn inextricably to the center of the universe. Opening the front door to the small space housing Paul's cathedral doughnuteria I just managed to squeeze into the back of the line already threatening to snake out the door into the parking lot. As my eyes adjusted I could see this was no new-wave fusion cuisine upscale trendy decor mecca to marketing. Instead, the spare olde timey room was simple, almost bland but everywhere the eye could roam I could pick out baking racks or counters filled with confections of untold promise.
The line moved slowly allowing me to get a much clearer look at the offerings. I could see all sorts of yeast and cake doughnuts, with and without toppings. Traditional rings and stuffed pastries, danishes, cakes, candies, and even a few bagels to lend the appearance of a health conscious alternative. I knew better. I'd bet those bagels had been there for decades, contract art crafted in plasticene holding pretense at bay with the illusion that someone might actually order one of these pretenders to the throne.
Half way thru the line I realized I had no cash with me. In my excitement to get into the place, I hadn't considered whether Paul's olde fashioned shoppe might accept a card as payment. Fear gripped me for an instant. Blind with the onslaught of the wonders before me I didn't see any indication that Paul's would accept my debit card. And now the mission had to be fulfilled. I'd offer anything. I could go back and clean the kitchen. I'd take garbage out. I could sweep the floors... or even hand out doughnuts over the counter. Where there were doughnuts, there would be a way.
When it was my turn at the counter I sighed in relief at the little Visa sticker next to the register. I was saved!! My eyes moved ever so slightly to the right and I saw these words: "Credit Cards Accepted. Minimum order $10." Hallelujah!! In less than a second my mind arrived at the obvious solution!
"I'll take two dozen, please"The angel taking my order unpacked two boxes and began the task of gathering nirvana into slim cardboard. As she reached for the glazed doughnuts she smiled with the artistry of Lucifer saying -- "the first hit's free" -- and said ever so gently: "they're hot, oh... they must have just come out". I melted inside.
"Here, we won't seal the box -- they're still cooling".
She rang the total at just over $13 and took my card. When I'd signed the receipt, she handed over the trophy of my hunt: a plastic bag holding two boxes and a handful of napkins.
I barely made it out to the car before my hand was inside the box tugging gently at one of the glazed doughnuts. It was so soft, so warm, the top half broke away in my fingers. Splendor, followed by bliss evolved into foodie epiphany. Amazing! Superlatives leapt thru my mind and cascaded down a whirlwind of rapture. I reached for the second half and accidentally brought out the remaining portion firmly attached to the ring next to it. Into my mouth went one and a half doughnuts and I was euphoric.
It was in that instant that I knew what I had to do. If I didn't drop these boxes off at Jan's work -- and drop them off right now -- they would be consumed. By me. All of them. And I wouldn't feel guilty. They would be consumed totally. And I wouldn't care. I'd eat every last one of them. And I wouldn't tell anyone else. I'd do them in with lusty gluttony. And no one else would ever know.
I launched the car into drive and headed for the shop. As I rounded the parking lot my lovely SO was coming out to look at a bike. Confused she headed over to my car as the window on her side rolled down. I forced my hand to turn the bag over to her. My eyes pleaded, don't do what he says -- he's crazy, he's lost it.... just put the doughnuts back in the car.
But, my mouth was able to form the words that would divert my doom: "take these, please!!"
I drove away silently, realizing I'd just spent $13 for two doughnuts.
I drove away feeling, without question, it would be the most worthwhile purchase of the weekend.
I drove away planning, there's always next Saturday.
No comments:
Post a Comment