I only wanted maybe two, but there was a dozen minimum, and because I only had a credit card, I needed to spend at least $5. I decided to buy a bottled mocha Frappuccino to reach the minimum. It added up to $4.75. I told the guy to charge me $5, and he said it wasn’t necessary, and he couldn’t anyway because the cash register wouldn’t balance at the end of the day. I was committed to being generous, damn-it-all-to-hell, so I insisted on adding the $0.25 to the credit card receipt. I thought I was being so generous, and just now I calculated it to be 5%. Now I feel a little like a chump.
Anyway, here I am with a dozen donut holes, and I’m still dripping sweat from my yoga class. I decide this is the perfect time to transform into my alter-ego Miss Hospitality. Like the people behind the “Free Hugs Campaign” (here’s a YouTube video), I decide to offer my excess donut holes to strangers.
This was surprisingly harder than I expected. Maybe it was because I was wearing a yoga outfit and kinda stinky, maybe they thought the donut holes laced with something, or maybe people are just so darn health-conscious these days (“damn commies” as my former aikido teacher would say). Very few people took any. Three people, in fact.
I was so caught up in being generous, being the sweaty crazy lady giving away smiles, hopefully a laugh, and a bunch of empty calories, I didn’t notice right away that I had put my yoga mat and towel, my water bottle, my cell phone, and my ice-cold mocha Frappuccino bottle in the car, along with my keys and locked them all inside.
I used the donut store’s phone to call my husband to have him bring the second set of keys to our truck. I realized I could get all perfectionist and feel foolish for trying to be so friendly, but I decided to just sit in the donut shop while I waited, and I ate six of the donut holes. Hey, I figure six donut holes probably equals one whole donut.
How are you going to spread a little hospitality, generosity, or friendliness today?