I’ve failed the doughnut test. As I was whining about my dead-end no-pro (not for profit) job, one hour and ten minute subway commute (a trip, which is slightly longer and just a little bit more uncomfortable than a WW II prisoner of war transport) and my 25 pound weight gain my friend Joni gave me the news. “You’ve failed the doughnut test, ” she said. The Doughnut Test is rather simple. If you can make it from the subway to your desk without first stopping at the doughnut cart you pass. Buy any of the myriads of delicious glazed treats you…fail. To say that I have simply failed the Doughnut Test is a well…a gross understatement. I have not only failed the Doughnut Test I have also failed the Muffin, Cruller, Cookie, Brownie, Cinnamon Bun and Rugula Tests as well. This morning as I stood on line at the little silver house of love (i.e. the doughnut cart) with the other pastry failures I became awed by the sheer numbers of these rolling huts of joy throughout the city and the numbers ...
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