Donut Bribes

The donut. It's a halo of sugared ecstasy. In fact, a dozen glazed yeasts saved my life once. During the high school summers, my father often sent me away on character building job ventures. The summer before 10th grade, I built fences in Texas outside an Angus beef ranch. Wood, hammer, nail, smack. Wood, hammer, nail, smack. Sneeze, sneeze, cough, cough. Wood, hammer, nail, smack. Occasional thumb cracks aside, I didn't find the work particularly taxing and I was pretty damn good at it. So when my dad informed me that I'd be returning to the area the following summer, I was unconcerned. But I should have been. My summer was to begin in Texas, digging irrigation ditches with migrant workers sunrise to sunset for 8 weeks. And then up to Indiana for a month of corn detassling. To be honest, corn detassling sounded like a blessing compared to stick, shovel, toss, but I could not have been more incorrect.

While detassling in Indiana, I lived at the local juvenile facility. Unlike the other residents, I wasn't a social deviant (not that anyone could prove), so I was free to come and go as I pleased... which only means that my room, which consisted of a bed, toilet, and sink, wasn't locked. Usually I didn't have anywhere to go. From dawn to dusk, I walked through corn fields in the July heat picking tassles, as mosquitos, flies, and gnats swirled about the towering stalks. It was a misery that I wouldn't wish on anyone. But after dinner three times a week, I rode the bus to Dunkin Donuts for a shoebox of delicious treats. On my way back inside the grounds one evening, a boy was running toward me. I had my glasses off and due to my shoddy vision, "I have a knife you evil looking bitch. Give me your money" was the first time I realized he was armed. I wish I'd been aware sooner... I probably would have run away. That or I would have put my donuts down in order to defend myself. Ah well. [Taking my glasses off was all about self-preservation. As long as random juvies remained frightened of my rather demonlike ocular appearance, they kept their distance.] The boy had 4 facial piercings and wore a Def Leopard t-shirt. No way was I going out to a chump like this. He threatened me again and again but I never wavered in my resolve. I figured he was about to give up when he plunged his knife forward at my stomach. I looked down to find the handle stuck between the "N" and "K" of the "Dunkin." The boy pulled but the blade was trapped amidst cardboard, flour, and sweet glaze. Seeing this window of opportunity, I kicked him in the jimmy twice before kicking him in the nose, and ran back to my room, donuts and new knife in tow.

I didn't have another interaction involving a 3rd party and donuts until a seemingly calm morning in the spring of my junior year. I strolled through the dining hall to examine the breakfast situation and stocked up on eggs, sausage, pancakes, an orange, a bowl of Cheerios, and a lot of milk. But something was missing. The donut. I made my way over and while trolling the cart, a boy approached. 5'10, dark hair, engaging smile, and a green polo shirt.. the horse & jockey were pink. It seemed oddly out of place. He said his name was Brian and that he just needed to make conversation for a minute or two. For my troubles, he'd provide me with a box of fresh donuts. Apparently he'd read an interview with me in Scholastic that briefly mentioned my addiction. I obliged, standing there with feigned interest until he thanked me and left. How uneventful. But on my way to a table, a girl confronted me. An angry girl... A big angry girl. 5'10, black hair, and freakishly large breasts... she could have taken an eye out with one of those badboys. She wore a black shirt that said "princess" in red cursive. There were little crowns surrounding the letters. It seemed that her "attributes" had overpowered every thread of cotton ... her shirt held on for dear life, no longer able to contain the bulk of her person. "You're a fucking bitch." Well that's VERY sporting of you. I remained quiet. I try not to fly off the handle and involve myself in violent altercations until I can fully survey the scene. After doing so, I determine if an attacker deserves to have their ass kicked into next week. ... She followed me to my table, hurling obscenities and unimaginative insults. "You won't please Brian the way I did." "He'll do the same thing to you." "You're not half the woman I am!" It was true. This was a big bitch. Soon enough, a member of the SDH headset patrol got involved and asked her to leave. I looked at Brian - he shrugged, said thanks, and began beaming from ear to ear. I was a pawn. This punk used me to break up with that walking jug. But that's okay. I can see why he needed a scapegoat - I had a feeling that there were other unsuccessful break-up attempts in his past. That's the way it goes I guess. In positive news, Brian delivered a dozen donuts to my dorm the next day and I went on with life... that is, until this past Friday.

Sometimes I wonder if Notre Dame has Disaster Vortexes located at various points throughout the campus. In my time here, I've had more than my share of bad experiences occur in the same general area. Vortex 1 is the intersection of the main paths in front of the Reflecting Pool. It was here that my first boyfriend at ND broke up with me for being too young for him. It was here that the NDSP's arrested myself and 3 friends after we refused to get involved in their pursuit to catch some perps that ripped off the Varsity Shop. [Apparently we were supposed to endanger our lives and do the university a service -- catching the burglars ourselves was the ideal option, as we were faster and had more endurance than our $8/hour protectors. Figures.] It was here that I flipped off my bike and crashed while trying to avoid a gaggle of screaming girls who'd just spotted Carson Daly arriving for a pep rally. And it was here, on Friday afternoon, that disaster struck again. "It's you! You fucking bitch!" And then a male's voice: "Mindy?" "Brian? WHY are you with her STILL?" This cannot be happening. Somehow the three of us converged on this point - Brian walking south from the library, Mindy heading east, and myself, wishing I'd headed to Subway sooner.

Mindy (what a horrible name) told me that she knew who I was and that wouldn't stop her from kicking my ass. "I've taken Tae Kwon Do." Hey Mindy, pardon me while I pass out from laughter. Brian told her to leave me alone because it was all his fault. "Brian, you're so not capable of being devious like that. Only a girl like her is." He fought back - apparently it was this attitude that prompted him to take action 2 years ago. Mindy simply didn't respect him - "not as a mind or as a man." I didn't know if that man bit meant sexual disrespect or what but I had a temporary image of a suffocating Brian, his head trapped in the deadly valley also known as Mindy's cleavage. I became ill.

In this short amount of time, it became painfully obvious that Brian never gave up the charade. I don't know what happened in his life following that fateful day in SDH, but he never flipped the switch for this girl. She remained under the belief that I stole men away from helpless girls simply because I could. As if it was a hobby of mine. She's been trashing me for years to God knows whom! Wishing me ill will! And why? Because I was at the donut cart and later stood in silence while her big ass unleashed the fury. What, is that a bad thing? Does it make me a bad person? Sure, I was a pawn in her ex-boyfriend's break-up scheme but that was all! And it's not like I knew what I was getting into or actually pried him away. Having deemed myself blameless, I decided that I wanted no part of this conversation and began to walk towards the student center. "Where do you think you're going?" I told her that I didn't know but I knew it wasn't in the disaster vortex. And then the unthinkable - Mindy found walnuts on the ground and heaved them in my general direction. Pity. She lacked both the athletic ability and arm strength necessary to cause damage. I caught one of the walnuts out of the air and immediately fired it back at her, pinging the nut off her fat nose. As it bled, she called me a homewrecker and flipped me off. She slowly backed away, continuing to shout threats as she went but suddenly she was gone! In Mindy's ranting, she unknowingly backed into the area of the reflecting pool and fell ass backwards into the empty pit. Her feet kicked back and forth over the marble edge.

Should I help her? Brian was non-responsive. I figured it was best to at least scoot over to the area... call an ambulance if necessary. I peered over the edge - She was like a turtle marooned on its back. Her massive, mutant breasts and loaded backpack made her top-heavy, and, as a tragic result, quite trapped. I extended my hand ... "No you bitch! I hate you." Then she cracked on me - she was impressed that I could actually see into the pool. "Don't they call your kind 'little people'?" Very clever, Mindy. She wasn't going to rattle me that easily. I re-extended the offer and she told me all the things I could do to myself. Hmm. Maybe she wanted to be left alone. I walked away and from the looks of things, so had Brian.

On my way back from Subway, I saw the same feet sticking out the pool. I walked over, sandwich in hand, and sat on the ledge near her. I ate slowly and between bites explained that I didn't know Brian until that eventful morning, that he bribed me with donuts, and that a cheery disposition would probably help her prospects with men. After 15 minutes, I made another rescue offer. She agreed with the stipulation being that she would hit me when she got her balance. I wondered if she would have felt the same way if I didn't tell her all that stuff but figured that this was 2 years of anger showing its nasty face to the real world. This was coming to me either way. Ah well. I helped her up and as promised, Mindy took her best shot. It was so telegraphed that I was kinda sad for her but I don't particularly like being struck in the face, so I ducked. With the whiff, the momentum flung her back into the depths of the empty pool bed.

Stuck on her back again...

A pity really. I hope someone eventually helped her out... That must have been troubling.