I feel like an important question to ask is: what KIND of donuts are we talking about in this trashbag? Is it a bajillion plain glazed from Krispy Kreme? Is it a variety? Are there jam-filled? Are there chocolate? Are there donuts with icing? Are there apple cider donuts (my favorite tbh)? Are there sprinkles? Do you contain multitudes, basically, is what I'm asking.
OKAY SO THE THING ABOUT TRASHBAG DONUTS IS: i worked at a camp for kids the summer that I was 20. and part of that meant eating the same things that the kids ate, being on the same nutritional plan. which was great, you know, because it was theoretically a good nutrition plan and we should all treat our bodies like temples OR WHATEVER.
but the tHING WAS, right, that sometimes, someTIMES, you just. you just want JUNK FOOD. you just want to put stuff into your body that you KNOW IS GOING TO CLOG YOU ARTERIES, BUT LIKE, FUCK IT, DEATH COMES FOR ALL OF US. IT COMES FOR ALL OF US, EVEN GLUTEN-FREE VEGANS WHO LOVE RUNNING.
so one night a bunch of us were on our night off and we were like, “if someone doesn’t put some fucking junk food in my mouth RIGHT NOW i am going to full on rip the flesh from my bones and start the first skeleton war,” so we went to dunkin donuts (because WHERE ELSE DO YOU GO TO AVOID THE SKELETON WAR????).
the problem was that it was like…. 10ish p.m., and dunkin donuts was CLOSING. what in the SWEET NAME OF JESUS did dunkin donuts think it was doing????? closing???? AT 10ISH P.M.????? didn’t it know we were TRYING TO AVOID A SKELETON WAR?
the guys who were closing up were like, “uh, sorry, this is just. when we close, but if you want some leftover donuts i guess you can have them? we usually throw them away?”
- THROW THEM AWAY???????
- WHAT KIND OF DEVIL SPAWN EVEN ARE YOU?
- who does this??? what is this cold, corporate world we live in where we just THROW DONUTS AWAY???
“how many of them can we have?” we asked.
“how many do you want?” he responded.
HERE’S THE THING. i THINK he expected us to giggle and be like, “oh, just a bear paw for me, please,” or “well i’ll take a strawberry glazed!” or “well, maybe just a little donut hole.”
what we said was: WE’LL TAKE ALL OF THEM.
ALL OF THEM.
“there are. there are lot. as you can see here, there are—a lot.”
ALL OF THEM.
“are you sure you—i really think maybe you’re underestimating just how many—”
he put them in a trashbag. where else are you going to put them? but in a trashbag? where else are you going to put your trash donuts to give to five-ish wide-eyed monsters who are looking at you like if you don’t give them their sugar fix they’re going to grind your bones to make their bread?????
- listen, i ruled over a cabin with ELEVEN TO THIRTEEN YEAR OLD GIRLS and i only cried TWICE.
- YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF ONE DUDE IN A DUNKIN DONUTS UNIFROM JUDGING ME FOR MY VOLUME OF DONUT CONSUMPTION???
we brought them back to the car, literally giddy with victory. i cannot explain to you what the feeling of those trashbag donuts felt like. i cannot. it is, i imagine, what pirates felt like when they took over government ships. it is the ending championship game scene of every sports movie. it’s the part in the romcom where they kiss in a hot air balloon. IT’S EVERY P&G COMMERCIAL ABOUT MOMS.
we brought them back to camp, frantically texting the other counselors. COME 2 FRONT 4 DONUTS. KEEP IT SECRET. KEEP IT SAFE.
they came in hoards, but we were the masters. they were our donuts. we were gods among sugar-starved mortals. “oh, you want the last boston cream pie? well, gosh. so does jenny. WHAT CAN YOU DO FOR ME THAT JENNY CAN’T?”
- you and jenny are both cogs in the wheel.
- i am the donut god.
- these donuts are joy, they are victory, they are light.
- they are in a trashbag.
- get in, motherfuckers. WE’RE GETTING SUGAR HIGH.