Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Half Donut


Maybe I'm just a nice guy. Maybe I like to make my co-workers smile. Or perhaps, I just bribe people to be my friends.

So, I brought a box of donuts to work today. Nothing fancy. Certainly not anything like Krispy Kreme. Just a box of basic donuts.

Through the course of the day, friendly folks came and went helping themselves to the powdery rings of cake. Then, over time, as I returned to the kitchen for regular coffee refills, I discovered that the donuts were being halved.

Cut in half. Half taken. Half left behind like sinners after the rapture. The sugar-coated box became a bin of unwanted donut halves.

Now, the first question is, why cut the donut in half? Trying to preserve your girlish figure by only consuming 18 grams of fat rather than 36? Does it matter THAT much?

Are you too full for that second bite of Donut? Was the first bite to filling?

Is it really just a matter of guilt? You want that donut, but some voice in your head tells you that it's wrong or bad, so you steal away with only half, assuaging your guilty conscience with your semi-self-denial? Really? I mean, it's just a donut.

Then, the second question is, if you want to take only half a donut, and the sad snacker before you wanted only the same. And, their bisected breakfast treat remains in the box, why not take it? Why cut another donut.

And especially, if several folks have done the same thing, why not take any one of the half-dozen donut halves littering the bottom of the box??

And of course, no one wants to take the last one. They just keep cutting and splitting, chopping and pinching, until all that is left is the inevitable single uneaten bite, which will certainly be found in the box by the time I get there tomorrow.

I'm going to eat it, damn it. The last bite is mine.

12 comments:

  1. If you'd gone to Krispy Kreme you might have got a free calender..

    Dermot, our Friday consultant, buys us huge cookies. They too always end up in half. Dermot is Irish and looks like Homer Simpson

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  2. Anonymous6:05 AM

    Are you going to rule the donuts with an iron fist?

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  3. Anonymous8:17 AM

    mmmmmm donuts.

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  4. Anonymous8:20 AM

    I'm confused at your use of cookies. Do you call them cookies yourself, thereby making yourself a target of derision in Wales? Or did you translate that for the largely American readership of the blog. I love sweets. I've been having a craving for baked goods for two days. I'm making scones today to satisfy this need... (And I would NEVER leave half a donut soldier behind.)

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  5. Amanda - We have biscuits but also have cookies, which are a merchandising ploy to make us think we're being all American. They are chunkier than biscuits, softer and more doughy.
    Something like this
    http://i7.tinypic.com/4g3nsls.jpg

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  6. Anonymous10:28 AM

    Maybe your co-workers feel bad for the diabetic in denial and just cant eat an entire donut because of the guilt for having a perfectly functioning pancreas. Either that or they are retarded.

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  7. B.S - you are a dentist, I am a critical care nurse who's looked after patients with the worse side effects of mismanaged Diabetes that there are
    If anyone should chastise Brian for his dietary habits it should be me.
    But I don't cos he's an adult. Plus, the opathys kicking in should be fun to watch...

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  8. Anonymous11:23 AM

    Oh, we already do. Just not about your love of Hostess Cherry Pies and alcohol. Lisa,

    Those do indeed look like cookies. I just found out that scones have a different pronunciation in the north of England. It's very odd and vaguely unsettling.

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  9. I should give you the recipe for Welshcakes - yummy, much better than scones

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  10. Anonymous11:57 AM

    Yes, please! I love baked goods!

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  11. Anonymous3:37 PM

    There's a cookbook open on the kitchen counter to the page with peanut butter cookies, but I am more in the mood for oatmeal butterscotch. Or just scotch. Too many decisions!

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Be compelling.

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