I want a doughnut. I would settle for a donut. What’s the difference? Very little I suspect. The latter is the phonetic spelling of doughnut, a compound word that is descriptive of the delectable little darlings. The phonetic spelling is helpful for those who flunked phonics in first grade and find it hard to distinguish which sound to choose the complicated vowel combination ‘ou’ should make. Since dough is made with flour, it is an understandable problem. However, my first grade teacher, Mrs. Adams, was a skilled teacher and I have no trouble choosing which sound to assign the pesky vowel combination.
What has this to do with the pit? Nothing. I’m about midway through my fat burner program on the half rack and the dew is falling pretty good. I think the perky girls at the front desk are cold and have turned the heat up even though the place is packed to the rafters this morning. The body heat alone would be enough. Someone is going to have to mop up later today and I assure you, it won’t be me. Anyway, I can’t help but notice that even the free weights are over run with people today. Every piece of equipment is occupied. Not that these people are doing anything. Every once in a while someone will do a push-push, a pull-pull, a lift-lift, and then they sit around looking at all the other guys who are sitting around trying to look macho. Occasionally one of them will roll their shoulders or rub a muscle. “Yeah, I’m tough. Look at me. I lifted that fifty pound doughnut…”
Perhaps this is the source of my sudden doughnut craving. The free weights do resemble doughnuts, in a Picasso sort of way. I still haven’t located the secret doughnut stash, but a few of these peeps look as if they know where to find a mouthful of cholesterol, so all hope is not lost.
Did I not just spend a week on a floating monument to gastronomical excess, you ask? Of course I did, but now that I think of it, the food service on the ship was lacking in one respect. Not once did I see a doughnut. Not that I was deprived, or exhibited any sort of restraint when it came to the food, but you would think they could have come up with a few doughnuts.
I will admit to a eating a few croissants and maybe a muffin or two, but those can be justified. Most breakfast type foods can be. Think about it. If you have a muffin you can always say it was high in fiber, or had some fruit or nuts in it. It was a healthy choice. Croissants, by virtue of their fancy name must be healthy. How can anything so light and lacking in substance be fattening? Stuff it with some fruit and you’ve just upped the nutritional value. Slap some bananas on top of your waffle and, voila, it’s now a healthy meal. Wash it down with a half gallon of orange juice, which we all know breaks down cholesterol and flushes it from your system, and you can tell your cardiologist you were a good girl on vacation.
You cannot justify a doughnut. There is nothing redeeming about the tasty treats. Doughnuts symbolize the spirit of vacationing. Vacation is all about pleasure. We derive pleasure from lots of things, eating being one of them. Sure, we could all exist on tasteless food pellets, but eating is one of the true pleasures in life and if you can’t indulge your taste buds when on vacation…, then when? So where were the doughnuts? I’m seriously thinking I need to send an addendum to our post-cruise satisfaction survey in order to point out this grievous oversight.
I can’t tell you the last time I had a doughnut. That is a sad state of affairs if I ever heard one.
Have you noticed that doughnut places don’t advertise? There is no need. Humans are born with the knowledge that doughnuts are good. Why do you think teething rings are shaped like that? Sure there are a few, well one, doughnut place that advertises, but they don’t advertise their doughnuts, or to be more accurate, donuts. They talk about their coffee and all the other stuff on the menu, but not the donuts. That’s because we all know donuts are good. We don’t have to be convinced, it’s something we are born knowing.
I think perhaps I’ve had enough for one day. I resolve to stop at the front desk on my way out and ask if tomorrow they could maybe turn the heat down and direct the ones who complain about it to the sauna, instead of all of us getting a steam bath. Maybe I’ll ask about the secret stash of doughnuts while I’m at it.
Thanks to all of you who have stuck it out with me thus far. This post marks two months of insanity and somewhere out there a doughnut is calling my name. Yes, I hear you. I’ll be right there!
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