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The Day a Donut Almost Killed Me — Half a Man

Donut1
The actual donut

Individually, the interns were all pretty nice guys. A little juvenile, sure, but tolerable for the most part. Put them all at a conference table in a professional setting, though, and it was like assembling lazy intern Voltron — Each khaki-panted part sliding onto the next to create one massive jerk. It’s a guy thing: put more than three males in one location and it spikes the testosterone to an unmanageable levels.

Every few days the entire group would saunter into our already crowded office. They sat, joked in whispered voices, and searched the internet for hours on end. This was all for class credit. Only one of the now Seniors actually completed an assignment for this website. He transcribed an interview. He typed out every “um” “oh” and “uhhhhh” that Dave Hill and I muttered. They spent the afternoons eating us out of office and sort-of-home and blowing up our bathrooms.

On their last day of work (term used loosely) they brought in three dozen donuts from a bakery across town. I’m a sucker for black & white cookies so when the black & white donut winked back at me from the box I knew my day was shot. Imagine a black & white cookie. Now another black & white. Now imagine them having sex with a glazed donut for a condom.

Pies, cupcakes and donuts and I have never seen eye to eye. Mostly because the moment my eye sees any delicious baked good I shovel as many in my mouth as possible until my body sweats sucrose and my fingers look like ten canolis pointing at MOARRDONUTSMOAR! The older I get the more powerful the sugar punch, knocking me down for the count for hours. This black & white was going to put me out of commission for the rest of the day. Or so I thought.

I didn’t feel normal again for at least three days. My body was sluggish, my thoughts clouded, and my cholesterol higher than Amanda Bynes out for a Sunday spin. I still wanted more. Immediately. Unfortunately the bakery was just too far from the office to justify the trip. It was for the best.

A couple months after the interns left, we moved to a larger office in a new building. Those kids would love the new location — bigger conference room table, nicer bathrooms and tons of stretching room to complete lazy intern Voltron formation without knocking over any computer monitors. With the first day in the office came the obligatory stroll around the neighborhood to get a lay of the land. This block has a Barnes & Noble, a taco spot, a couple decent food trucks and…mother of christcakes….

The bakery.

Though I haven’t bought one yet, I think about that donut every day. Every. Day. I need it. I yearn for it. I want to take it to B&N, read it excerpts from Bossypants and make it laugh before taking it all into my mouth.

If you see a man molesting a black & white donut in the humor section of your B&N, just know, it was asking for it. You just can’t hear it moan over my mouth-filled mumbles of “moarmoarmoar.”

Chris Illuminati is the editor-in-chief of GuySpeed. He’s written three humor books, ruined many relationships and still cries during thunderstorms. His ‘Half a Man’ column appears every Tuesday. You can read more of his work here or follow him on Twitter.

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