Friday was a momentous day.
I ran TEN miles.
More than I have ever run in my life.
The only thing that got me through that run was the thought of a rendez vous with an apple fritter.
Not just any apple fritter-a Voodoo apple fritter.
They're so good you may just Liz yourself.
The Pants affectionately calls them "crack doughnuts".
All day I thought about that doughnut.
As we finished a dinner of Japanese Curry I was giddy for that doughnut.
Giddy and fatigued.
REALLY fatigued.
We braved the inevitable line at Voodoo Doughnut and when we got to the counter the unthinkable happened.
They were out of apple fritters.
A minor meltdown occurred.
It was the closest I've ever come to throwing a hissy fit in public.
I looked to The Pants as I searched for something to say.
The Pants sensed my fragile state and asked for 3 french Kruellers.
But I didn't run TEN miles for mediocre french Kruellers.
I made him eat them as I sulked on our walk to the car.
"Are you sure you don't want one?" he asked gingerly.
"NO! All I wanted was an apple fritter! Why couldn't they just make more?" I barked.
The Pants suggested Papa Hayden's on the way home from renting two stellar movies.
Twilight and Labyrinth.
I only allowed a small grin to show as I agreed.
Chocolate banana cream pie would do.
After waiting in line at the bakery counter for 10 minutes and nearly crashing into every waitress carrying someone else's dessert I decided to call it quits.
I must have looked dejected because I could see the pity in the onlookers' eyes as they waited their hour turn for a table.
The Pants had the same look when I returned to the car empty handed.
I couldn't give up though, even if my body was telling me it was time to.
Defeated at last I went where anyone would go--the ice cream case at Safeway.
Straight to the Haagen-Dazs Pineapple Coconut Ice Cream and a jar of fudge sauce.
David Bowie and Edward Cullen consoled me as I drowned my sorrows in that pint and dreamed of a tomorrow filled with apple fritters.
I ran TEN miles.
More than I have ever run in my life.
The only thing that got me through that run was the thought of a rendez vous with an apple fritter.
Not just any apple fritter-a Voodoo apple fritter.
They're so good you may just Liz yourself.
The Pants affectionately calls them "crack doughnuts".
All day I thought about that doughnut.
As we finished a dinner of Japanese Curry I was giddy for that doughnut.
Giddy and fatigued.
REALLY fatigued.
We braved the inevitable line at Voodoo Doughnut and when we got to the counter the unthinkable happened.
They were out of apple fritters.
A minor meltdown occurred.
It was the closest I've ever come to throwing a hissy fit in public.
I looked to The Pants as I searched for something to say.
The Pants sensed my fragile state and asked for 3 french Kruellers.
But I didn't run TEN miles for mediocre french Kruellers.
I made him eat them as I sulked on our walk to the car.
"Are you sure you don't want one?" he asked gingerly.
"NO! All I wanted was an apple fritter! Why couldn't they just make more?" I barked.
The Pants suggested Papa Hayden's on the way home from renting two stellar movies.
Twilight and Labyrinth.
I only allowed a small grin to show as I agreed.
Chocolate banana cream pie would do.
After waiting in line at the bakery counter for 10 minutes and nearly crashing into every waitress carrying someone else's dessert I decided to call it quits.
I must have looked dejected because I could see the pity in the onlookers' eyes as they waited their hour turn for a table.
The Pants had the same look when I returned to the car empty handed.
I couldn't give up though, even if my body was telling me it was time to.
Defeated at last I went where anyone would go--the ice cream case at Safeway.
Straight to the Haagen-Dazs Pineapple Coconut Ice Cream and a jar of fudge sauce.
David Bowie and Edward Cullen consoled me as I drowned my sorrows in that pint and dreamed of a tomorrow filled with apple fritters.
Tomorrow brought a dream fulfilled. Just a day delayed.
I can only imagine what crisis this Friday's 12 miles will bring.
The Pants can only imagine what pregnancy will bring.
The Pants can only imagine what pregnancy will bring.
2 comments:
Glad you finally got your apple fritter...it looks delicious!
Hilarious story. Sad that you had to endure such hardship and disappointment. Your fritter induced grin says it all.
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