Fun & Famous

Why it is not smart to bring donuts from America

This is the first day that I am back in the editorial office since my birthday/Iceland/Chicago adventure (read here and here but just for a moment) and I still hadn't treated anyone.

Well, I thought in America that I could take something tasty home. So I completely went overboard at Dunkin’ Donuts and came out with a gi-gantic box full of goodness for my dearest Amayzine colleagues. To avoid misunderstandings: I don’t wish the goodness for them, but the donuts themselves I really do. Myself too, by the way. And those things could surely fit in the airplane, right?

‘Once on the plane, I carefully placed my pink glazed and speckled princesses in the compartment above my head’

I was a bit panicky that they would be taken away at customs because they weren't sealed, but thank god they were allowed through the gates. Once on the plane, I carefully placed my pink glazed and speckled princesses in the compartment above my head. They had to survive two flights. From Chicago to Iceland (about 6 hours) was okay. From Iceland to Amsterdam (three hours) turned out to be a disaster. Some kind of IDIOT had unknowingly placed a bag on my treasures and once home, I found an exploded mess of chocolate, jam, and pudding. Not okay. Not sexy.

But, I thought in my enthusiasm: it’s all about the taste, right? Maybe I can convince my colleagues that the donuts are no longer Instagram-worthy but still definitely worth it. And so the donut battlefield went into the fridge last night, including the box, since it was about a hundred degrees in my house. When I opened the box this morning, I saw a dry, cold, donut graveyard. The moral of this story? People, never buy donuts for the home front, you wouldn’t wish this on your worst enemy. Damn donuts.

Oh and, as a peace offering, the editorial office is today scattered with white chocolate and brownie cake. Much better than donuts. Grr.