Kate, your blog reminded me of my own donut story. Back in the warehouse days I used to work pretty long hours sometimes. And those days when the shifts reached the 14-16 hour mark - we would get donuts. It was always so nice to feel that our hardwork and long hours didn't go unnoticed. And they were always the good kind. I guess they weren't donut donuts, but rather rolls, with custard, twists, all that junk. The stuff fat rich people buy - as opposed to poor fat people. Well, it turned out that there was no benevolent manager. It was actually a co-worker!! How thoughtful. It would be difficult for someone to bring in 50 rolls once a week, especially on warehouse worker dollars, but he managed to do it.
Well, only a country bumkin like myself would assume that some poor fellow went out of his way to make others happy - especially at a Minneapolis warehouse. The reason we only got the donuts when we worked long hours was because it wasn't until around 5am that the neighboring gas station got their shipment and my sly coworker would go swipe a box from the truck. So yes, they were stolen, but they were still good. He did this for quite a few weeks and we all loved it...
But, all good things must come to an end. The police took his car (or his license, can't remember). Anyway, he couldn't drive.
So to make a long story short. If you are ever dropping someone off at the hospital who is suffering from multiple gunshot wounds - don't just roll them out of the car onto the sidewalk and take off. It's illegal. I am not sure why. I don't make the laws. But when the police take your car, it may be your co-workers that suffer the most. Who cares if he was "whinnin like a little baby" or "it was just a little 22." The sidewalk is for bums, not your bleeding accomplice.
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