Cranks My Tractor

When I’m too lazy to make a cup of coffee late at night, I drive to the closest 7-11 which is less than five minutes from my house. In Virginia, 7-11’s are everywhere. The people there are nice and will make a new pot of coffee any time of day. On this night, I was getting gas, a cup of coffee and wasting time.

The store was empty, other than the girl who was working the second shift. I walked in and stood in front of the doughnut case. Is it donut or doughnut? "Doughnut" just looks better to me.

As I stood in front of the doughnut case, I started talking to the girl behind the counter. My back was to her, because I was studying the doughnuts left in the case. I asked her, “What time does the doughnut man come in?” I knew the answer and answered my own question before she had a chance to.

“About midnight, right?”

She said, “Yes, that is right.”

I was staring at two green frosted doughnuts with red, white and green sprinkles. While drinking my coffee, I got into a “Sprinkle Debate” with Sydney (the girl behind the counter). It wasn’t actually a debate; it was more of an “Amen session” because Sydney and I were in agreement that there just weren’t enough sprinkles on the green frosted doughnuts.

Sydney seemed to be appreciating the conversation. I pointed out that if they would use only white and red sprinkles, it would actually look like there were more on the doughnut. Sydney agreed.

After trying to get a break on one of the only two Christmas doughnuts, I settled on the better looking one. I was whining a little to Sydney, “This one on the left looks like someone stuck their finger in it.” I was trying to get a doughnut deal, Sydney didn’t bite.  I just took the better one out of the case and started eating it.

We were alone in the store and I was philosophizing over how we all have our sprinkles and some of us have more than others. Sydney seemed to either agree with me or wasn’t paying attention to me. She is always very nice to listen to my ramblings or at least pretend to listen.

Sydney is less than half my age, but she understands life’s sprinkles. Our conversations would do well in a theatre in Richmond. Sydney sports purple hair, nose and lip rings and other piercings; I’m losing my hair, wearing Clark Kent glasses, blue jeans, a tweed jacket and Chuck Taylor Converse All-Star tennis shoes.

I guess you could say what we are wearing and what we look like are kind of like the white and red sprinkles on the doughnut. They are kind of obvious. People judge us on our white and red sprinkles, thinking we either have too many or not enough.

Maybe folks should judge us like green sprinkles on a green frosted doughnut, or the things that aren’t so obvious. These are the things that you have to get close to in order to see them. I’m sure Sydney and I would both agree on that.

After talking about the lottery a little, I asked her what she had sticking in her tongue. Sydney then made the two things in her tongue jump up and down. They looked painful, one was pink and the other was blue. I’m not sure what you call things sticking in a tongue – maybe tongue sticks. Sydney enjoys hers, they don’t bother me, so I don’t worry about it.

I know her and like her because she is kind, intelligent and if I’m lucky I’ll get a free cup of coffee every once in a while.

Rambling is something that I enjoy while drinking coffee and eating a doughnut with sprinkles late at night at the 7-11. We should appreciate everyone for their sprinkles that show and the ones that don’t show.

I promise I didn’t stick my finger in the doughnut on the left.

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