Donuts

The only known Krispy Kreme stationed on the corner of Levington Ave. and Fair Fax St. provided a place of comfort and familiarity for thousands every morning. That warm, overpowering scent of fresh glaze, chocolate, and sugar invaded the streets of Macon City, inviting the likes of children, adults, and elders. For some, the anticipation awaiting a fresh donut was the only reason to get out of bed. For others, having to savor every bite because they knew it would be their only source of pleasure for the day, the hour-long wait was worth it. There was nothing special about these donuts, from a realistic point of view, but it had enough power to bring people back. Every morning, the opener of the store would prep for the day; making new batches all of the time became routine. Throughout the morning, donuts would disappear left and right. The glazed ones were always the first to go, the jelly-filled and sprinkle-covered were scattered about, and the eclairs remained untouched. After spending hours growing stale in the lint-covered glass case, the closer would come and toss them out for the night, remaining unwanted.

            The Krispy Kreme had been in business for decades, serving customer after customer. Years of serving overweight, corporate employees, recently divorced women, hungover college students, and bright-eyed high-schoolers, caused the store to gain a sense of notoriety. Amongst its neighboring stores: an abandoned Tiffany’s, a state-of-the-art McDonald’s, and a local Big Boy diner, the shop fit in nicely within the populated city. However, there was a sense of alienation that came with the store. Despite it being in the heart of Macon, the store remained empty for six of the eight hours that it was open. You hardly noticed anyone was working there, unless you were to catch one of the despondent employees staring at the minuscule screen of a dingy TV.  However, you might have gotten lucky enough to catch the “3pm drifter”, which was a code word for the occasional older man who always ordered a box of glazed donuts for himself. He always had on the same tattered outfit and pepper-sprinkled hair. Sitting on the sidewalk, in front of the Krispy Kreme, he was known to only eat one of the donuts and leave the rest in the box. Throughout the remainder of the day, he would alternate between people-watching and cradling his head in his arms. He remained anonymous, and late in the night would walk off, leaving the remaining donuts. By the morning, most of them would be infested with flies, ants, and roaches. If you were observant, you might even catch a rat nursing on one of them. One of the openers for the store would come out and toss the old box away with the rest of the left-overs, thus creating a cycle. 

            Macon’s staple delicacy was it’s chicken restaurants. Home of one of the biggest chicken farms in the country, the chicken business became their monopoly. The city alone fed millions of citizens every day with different styles, meals, and even desserts that revolved around the bird. The surprise of the Krispy Kreme not only stole people’s hearts but also some establishments’ loyal customers. Certain restaurants tried to take advantage of their competition and tried to collaborate with the store for a chicken-and-donut recipe. However, any attempts ended up failing and the Krispy Kreme became a force of its own. Sitting in the middle of every major restaurant and retailer within the area, it managed to hold its own during its first few months. Jealous storeowners laughed and ridiculed the obscurity of a donut shop being successful. That same donut shop ended up lasting longer by a matter of decades.

            But one may wonder, why donuts? I mean, if the shop was any different: pizza, ice cream, tiramisu, or even spaghetti, what about this donut shop drew people in? Surely, it could not have been the smell of the rusty machines pumping out the aroma of sugar into the congested air. It would be hard to imagine the decorative icing of each individual donut glistening under the shine of the glass case or the sound of cheap, semi-watery coffee brewing would bring in so many people every day. Maybe, it’s because it is just a donut shop. Maybe donuts provide a sense of comfort and variety for the mundane, everyday life. It could explain why a certain teenage girl stays inside the store every Wednesday during the morning rush. Not buying anything, just observing  and illustrating in her tiny, leather book. Or maybe why the opener of the store, a young boy in his early teens, enjoys playing the same rock music every morning. Or maybe why there is always a starving dog sitting right outside the window, looking into the shop, hoping to get a bite. Maybe, that Krispy Kreme provides a sense of normalcy and hope.

            Albeit, the Krispy Kreme recently went out of business a couple of years back. No one knows why, and seeing the jarring “CLOSED” sign across the door clashing against the inviting aesthetic of the store’s colors surprised all. The same building that brought in so many people every morning, would never inhabit another soul. The one place that many would deem their home away from home, was now asylum for all sorts of bugs and small creatures. No amount of equipment was left over, leaving the store barren; all that was left was the serving counter and back door that led to an alleyway. The windows were soon boarded up and the door chained shut. Life went on as normal, not one person pausing to reminisce on the popularity of the Krispy Kreme or give it a passing glance. Years would pass and the store soon became just another abandoned restaurant within the ever-amassing city of Macon. 

            Despite the desolation, that Krispy Kreme still remains. Empty, abandoned, and yet still present. I still glance at it whenever I drive by during my commute to work. I can still sense that homely scent of fresh glaze and generic coffee. Most people would probably find me foolish for being nostalgic over a Krispy Kreme but, for some reason, it was more than that. It was the first chance this city got of being more than just a place for chicken. It was a space for people to laugh, cry, escape their normal routine, to feel at home. Sure, it’s only purpose was to serve individuals with cheap pastries, but it brought people together. Something that was hardly common in a big city. Or maybe, it really was just a donut shop.