The Savvy Pen

The first time I went to the ‘Doughnut Shop’ with Grandpa was when I was six.  I was sitting in the basket attached to his silver mountain bike with the wind whipping in my face.  The ride usually lasted for ten minutes from his home to some corner, that is long since gone by now—but the memory of it remains.

            Grandpa would swerve around corners and I would yell, “Yip—pee!” and we would both say, “Let’s do that again!”  As I recall these times, I remember Grandpa as a younger version of what he looks like today: old, but with an essence of youth still engulfing him.  He also wore this grayish bowler hat when he stepped outside and tilted it to the side of his bald head, which made me think of some detective.  To me, Grandpa was the coolest!

            After the fun ride Grandpa would eventually come to a stop at our destination in front of the Doughnut Shop.  The first time we arrived there together I waited for the click, click of the chain to tie the bike so that it would not be stolen.  Then we stepped into the small, glass window shop and inhaled that sweet air.  On that day in particular, the merry sound of customers could not be heard and the whirring shop only contained the owner, Grandpa, and, of course, me.  Stepping inside there were a few unorganized tables and chairs and straight ahead was a bright lime-green counter with a cashier.  Lined on the right side of the wall were the grand assortments of doughnuts of all shapes and sizes with the most interesting decorations.  And behind the counter was a completely different world decked with posters of coffee, a flashing menu high above, and the various gadgets making the noises of life that made shop so distinct.  I gasped. 

            “Alright, you can go over there and pick any doughnut you want, “ points Grandpa. “But don’t tell your grandma, okay?” 

            I just shake my head and shuffle over to the encased doughnuts.  They were lined in the most beautiful order with chocolate frosting, fillings sticking out, and different kinds of sprinkles jutting everywhere.  I did not know what to make of the sight.  I ate doughnuts before, but never appreciated the moments of munching on one.  The owner saw my astonished face and small hands pressing against the glass and laughed saying, “Who is this, now?”