The gas station donut industry has operated without oversight for too long. The time has come for the federal government to step in and finally start protecting its citizens from negligence.
Three times in a row, I got fucked by multiple Kwik Trips labeling regular long johns as cream filled long johns. Do you know how devastating an experience that is? It's a God damn travesty that will ruin your entire day. It's upsetting to the point that I've started breaking them in half before I buy them. This practice has saved me from further heartache twice already. And you've no idea how hard it is to not throw half an actually not cream filled donut at the nearest sky blue shirt and scream.
Some or maybe all of you might be thinking, "Relax, it's just a donut, and maybe stop eating so many donuts."
And to that I say, "No."
The issue is not as simple as just not getting the item you paid for. Eating a cream filled long john is a very specific experience: First you bite into one end—unless you're a complete psychopath, then maybe you eat your long johns like corn on the cob; I don't know. For whatever reason, I started writing this in second person, and I believe in consistency (unlike some gas stations). So, you start eating your donut and you're (probably) not a psycho, so the first couple bites are plain donut. That's normal. But, oh, you know it's coming. Soon you'll get to taste that rich cream. No, that's 100% your own brain making this weird, so just stop it; I'm trying to tell a story.
The anticipation is part of the experience. You don't actually know on which bite you will finally get to the cream, but you know and trust that eventually you will. When you finally do, you take note of how soon or late you got to the cream, and in that instant, in some small way, you relive every other cream filled long john you've ever eaten. And now, as you're into the cream bites, you know they will end soon, and you'll be left with regular donut once again. This is a sad reality you accept, and it makes you appreciate every cream filled bite so much more. Or maybe you're a fucking wild man, and as soon as you hit cream, you flip that sucker around and start from the other end so you can end on cream. I'm not judging. That's a life of decadence few dare to live, so you fuckin' go for it.
Eating a cream filled long john is a delicious roller coaster. Now imagine you're on a roller coaster that never reaches the top of that first suspenseful incline; it just keeps going. That's what happens when some total dick head puts a regular long john on the cream filled long john tray. On bite three, you're like, "Aw, damn. Probably not much in this one. I hope it's just off center and goes all the way to the end," because you're still excited and full of hope. Bite four, it's starting to hit you: the possibility that life is not what you thought—not what you were promised. You half know you're full of shit when you think to yourself, "Maybe there's at least a little at the end."
Then you take your fifth bite of the very obviously just a regular fucking donut that some asshole put on the cream filled tray. You realize that you've just eaten most of a perfectly good regular donut, but you didn't get to appreciate it for what it was, because you thought it was something else. And that's what's so truly heinous about this whole thing. Not only do you not get to enjoy the donut you wanted, but now you didn't get to enjoy the donut you had. God, that's fucking dark. I haven't seen the new Saw movie yet, but I guarantee you none of the traps are that fucked up. So now here you are with a few bites left of a completely normal donut you don't even want but could have wanted. Do you eat the last few bites and try to enjoy them for what they are, or will you throw it away, disappointed in everything and everyone in the world around you? Live or die, make your choice.
