The Doughnuts Are Getting Smaller But The People Are Getting Bigger - Stories - Goobbiegirl

...But The People Are Getting Bigger

Story added on 10/28/02

I am a native New Yorker. Having grown up in the foothills of the Adirondack mountains, I grew up and became accustomed to gigantic snowstorms, Italian communities, Jewishbagels, antique shops, and the biggest slabs of pizza you could hold with two hands. It was considered a sin if you walked into a pizza shop or hometown restaurant and were served something that was less than overindulgent. Maybe it was the Italian mentality or maybe it was because they knew you had to shovel up so much snow, but you were guaranteed to be served enough of a portion to feed yourself, your aging mother, and your dog. This was the way love was expressed and believe me, you were loved well.

Imagine my surprise when I moved to northern Virginia, right outside the biggest show on earth, Washington, DC, and discovered that pizza shops and bagel joints were replaced by kabob houses and sushi bars. The evidence of a foreign invasion were everywhere: Indian Chicken tikki, Moroccan cous cous, Thai coffee, Ethiopian restaurants that had become the rave. (Did anyone else wonder how it came to be that a country that is known for hunger and starvation could even come up with such a delectable cuisine?) Even my nail joint down the street was run by Thai women. Although I love ethnic cuisine, I was craving a good old slab of greasy, cheese pizza. The kind that hits the spot after a long night out dancing and drinking with friends. Every time I'd end a night out on the town, I'd search for a sign that read something like Marcello's, Mastronomi's, Sovrano's or Homestyle to simply quell the deep pocket that had grown within my stomach. Other than one overcrowded, unclean pizza shop in Adams Morgan, I could find none. And I believe that shop is run by a Lebanese family and they think tomato sauce should taste like a red carpet in Dubai. I became desperate.

When I decided to down size to a more affordable apartment off Rte 1 in Alexandria, it was hard to not see the abundance of strip malls, discount supermarkets, empty store parking lots, and generic chain restaurants. The idea of ethnic cuisine extends to about Chi Chi's and if you're really feeling wild, you can hit an Afghan Restaurant near Potomac Yards. I had walked down to a popular billiards place, Fast Eddie's, down the street from my apartment when a Fairfax County cop by the name of Lincoln, gave my roommate and I warning about the dangers of walking around in my neighborhood. Apparently many restaurants were robbed at gun point, and the officer turned my roommate off from getting a job at Applebees because the waitresses were often robbed at their cars at the end of their shifts. There was a Chuck E. Cheese joint within walking distance, and they did have good pizza, but the thought of eating my slices with gigantic, talking muppets singing to me and a kid pushing me on his way to Tekkan 4 and the plastic ball room didn't seem appropriate. Chuck E. Cheese probably wouldn't get robbed though. What would robbers do with all of those tokens?

What I did notice, or should say smell, was the sweetest, stickiest, doughnut joint that was the hub nub of all of Alexandria, Krispy Kreme. Here, it is the see and be seen joint of all of Rte 1. Apparently you can have doughnuts heated up in front of you at all hours of the day or evening. It was not unusual for me to notice large lines and crowds out the door at even 2 am. On Sunday mornings, you need to check in as if holding your Krispy Kreme dozen card is like a VIP on a list in DC's hottest club. If you have it, you're in. If you don't, try Dunkin Doughnuts. I live a quarter of a mile from the place, and no matter how hard I try to keep all windows closed, I can still wake up every morning to the smell of raspberry glazed doughnuts lingering in the air. No wonder I can't get myself excited over multi-grain cereal anymore. For every squat and lunge I do in my morning exercise tape routine, I can hear Kathy Smith screaming, "doughnut thighs, doughnut butt, doughnut gut!" Even my dog has become addicted to the apple cinnamon ones.

In trying to understand the social aspect of why Krispy Kreme has replaced the after drinking pizza shops of NY, I stop by with a few friends of mine who are quite inebriated. I can see the logic in having a cup of steaming hot coffee to wake you for the ride home, but certainly biting into one of those sugar bombs sends the blood into a coma after all that drinking? Groups of people of all ages and races scurry into this place and drool over the counter while choosing their favorite ones. I have learned that the doughnuts have been getting smaller. In the old days, you could get yourself a pretty hefty sized doughnut that would surely fill you up. Only the cops, bus drivers, and truck drivers could polish off two. But today, it appears that the average person needs to order at least 3 of them in order to feel full. You can't help it because the doughnuts melt in your mouth instantly and you become zombie-like, not even remembering if you ate one. I saw one guy order 5 of them and devour them whole like a scary act in the circus.

What I also noticed was how even though the doughnuts are getting smaller, the people are getting bigger. The swivel chairs and polished countertops were squeaking and screeching as lopsided butts and flabby arms turned and twisted, reaching for a napkin or a straw. I looked on in amazement as I saw an extremely large 10 year old get fed his portion of the family's dozen, and he got 5 doughnuts. The mother had to tell him that was enough. I watched him roll his tongue in the center of his doughnut, scoop out all of the strawberry jelly, before squishing his doughnut in half and place it tenderly in his mouth for consumption. He would tap his Nike sneakers fervently as he polished one right after another. I found my new target in my kick boxing classes. No longer would I need to stare at a blank spot on the wall to focus my side kicks; I had this overindulgent, pudgy, freckled boy plastered on my mind.

The people who work at Krispy Kreme are just as diverse as the doughnuts themselves. The varied accents can be heard shouting over one another, "who's next!" as the person behind you pushes up on you slightly so that they can be that much closer to the finish line. Many of the Krispy Kreme employees came here from other countries in search of the American dream. Apparently doughnuts are viewed better than McDonalds any day. In light of the new Lite-fare fad diets where McDonalds offers their healthier options, there is no denial going on here about the fact that these doughnuts are far from being good for you. These are no excuses doughnuts, and there is safety in that. The Burger King crowns are replaced by the Krispy Kreme tote bus as every good child will be sure to carry all of their fatty goodies close in hand. You can buy Krispy Kreme T-shirts, sweatshirts, baseball caps, tote bags, and wrap around sunglasses ensuring that the Krispy Kreme family is one that values the dedication and hard work that goes into glazing each precious creation.

I am sure that there is something unique to the experience of eating a hot doughnut in the late hours. There is a certain sense of camaraderie and companionship as you sit at the counter with your doughnut and coffee as you stare at the cars driving by. As the world faces new challenges and daily threats, there is safety in retreating to our younger days when sugar and sweets was a part of our innocence. We never worried about the effects of eating too many sweets. We were allowed to simply indulge. I still get intense cravings for a hot, juicy slice of Homestyle's Pizza, but I've realized that I still get to use both hands when carrying my doughnuts to the counter, and this helps me feel less guilty.

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