I pass this little mom and pop donut (I know, it's spelled, doughnut.) shop every morning. I seldom if every stop since I like to be able to glance down and see my belt buckle, but you know what, once in a while doesn't hurt.
Went to bed early last night which of course forced me awake at 'oh my God dark thirty.' After a quick shower and a swift brush of lips with my lovely wife I was out the door and down the road before I knew what had hit me.
Traffic was light since the morning was dark. Then the soft white glow of the 'Donut Shoppe' sign came into view. What 'da heck....I nosed the truck in and parked.
I'm a simple man. I like my pastries plain and glazed. Those sprinkles and weird fillings should be restricted to little girls and wussy boys and those that follow golf.
The girls flirted and I tipped and soon arrived at the shop and before long the smell of fresh coffee and warm just out of the grease donuts filled the office with sweet goodness.